


Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies

by Macx



Series: Imperfection Deviation [69]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Transformers (Bay Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-15
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything is black and white. There are gray area. The Autobots run into such a gray area when a new mech is found. And with the new mech comes more than one surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Mirrors, Secrets and Lies

Additional Character Note: from the day I wrote the story to the 20th of February 2010 I was convinced that Drift was a character Sapphire and I had created. She gave him his name (I had called him Static at first, she argued that Drift/Drifter sounded better), I gave him his basic personality and abilities.

Then, on 02/20/10 Sapph told me that Drift is actually a former Decepticon ninja assassin who changed sides in G1 and some comics.

I looked at my character, stared, started laughing, and decided we’re really good. We created a character out of brain farts and it ended up being a canon one. Very cool.

So, no OCs in here. Raoul is the guy from the G1 episode “Making Trax”, just older. I don’t think he had a last name in the cartoon. Now he has one here :)

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He hadn’t been born into one of the better neighborhoods of town, but it also wasn’t the slums. It was a place where you still went to school and learned, but where the lure of street gangs was already extending. Still, he resisted and he didn’t join like many of his class mates.

His father made money in junk, owning one of the city’s largest private junk yards. His mother worked in the yard’s office, helping with the paper work. They had money, but never enough for him to go to college.

So he got into cars. By the age of twelve he could hotwire a car and take apart an engine like it was a Lego set. He knew everything there was about cars.

And the street gangs extended.

His parents always warned him, but he wanted to belong to something bigger, so he went with a friend. They told him to steal a car.

On his thirteenth birthday he did it. As a rite of initiation, coming of age, belonging somewhere.

It was the day everything changed.

It was the day Raoul Vega met an alien life form.

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One way to get into a car show to find a rogue Cybertronian signal was to buy a ticket. A really simple way that involved nothing more fancy than standing in line and purchasing a moderately priced piece of electronic paper. And on you went to fawn over the new models, poke fun at the ridiculous ideas of some designers, and snap pictures with the hot hostess.

Another way was to be a fancy car and share the spotlight with all the other pimped cars, designer models or the all-out weirdoes who spent their last dollar on a custom paint job, but had no food in the fridge over night.

There was also the possibility that your name was Anthony Edward Stark, you had billions to spend, were a name in the design industry, and simply walked into the gigantic show room with not a cent paid.

Tony Stark grinned to himself as he went with the flow of people, stopping in front of displays, looking at the cars.

::Easy as pie:: he sent via Extremis.

::Right:: came the reply from his partner. ::So much for incognito::

::Hey, I got inside. And I’m not surrounded by a bulk of pretty girls and bodyguard bruisers.::

Rodimus Prime snorted, but he didn’t argue any further. He knew that Tony’s usual bodyguard and driver, Happy Hogan, had offered to come along and Tony had refused. He had also refused any other guards. He could protect himself because of his alterations. And Happy was needed with his family, Stark had argued. He was now a happily – no pun intended -- married man. Pepper Potts and he had tied the knot. It had pained Tony a little, though he hadn’t said anything about it. He was glad his friends had found each other, but it only underlined his loneliness.

Rodimus’ presence increased and he pushed him away. He was fine. He could handle this.

Tony’s own cover had been easy to apply. The Audi R8 was a nice to look at car all on its own, but with a few additions he had snuck in at night and taken up an empty spot that allowed him to scan everywhere. Tony had approved of the additions and told him to keep them. Rodimus looked rather hot, Stark had told him, and the amount of people lingering around the ‘exhibit’ was proof enough.

::Signal?:: Tony asked, all business again.

::Still diffuse. He’s hiding::

::Tried telling him we’re the good guys?::

::I’m trying not to make a target out of myself, Tony. Just in case it’s a Decepticon::

Stark smiled to himself and stopped next to the pimped R8. Rodimus had added a sport air filter unit, super-lightweight 19" black, magnesium wheels, a front lip spoiler, front bumper air intakes fit into the original body, an improved front radiator, as well as a new adjustable wing rear spoiler. Side sills, side blades, diffuser, and a rear grill rounded out the exterior mods.

The tuning crew had no idea that this wasn’t a loan from a tuner but an undercover Autobot. The camouflage features were a small miracle in Stark’s eyes. They made absolutely perfect copies of the original and even he had been fooled for a while when Hot Rod had hidden in his garage.

::Watch it or I’ll buy you:: Tony teased.

It got him a snort, but also a flash of amusement. ::As if you could afford me::

“Say, how much for the car?” Tony asked one of the representatives casually.

::Tony!::

“Depending on the outfit…”

“As is.”

“300.000,” the man in the suit said.

Tony nodded. “Not bad.”

::Stark…::

::Peanuts, Roddy. I’ve spent more on a car::

::I’m not a collectible::

::May I remind you how you started out?::

The Autobot huffed.

Tony exchanged a few more pleasantries with the representative, then walked on.

::300.000?:: he teased.

::Shut up and start triangulating:: Rodimus grumbled.

::Sore loser::

::Moron::

::Aw, you’re just depressed they sell you cheap::

::I’m not for sale, Stark. Now would you please start triangulating?::

Tony smiled to himself.

Suddenly he froze.

::Tony?::

He ignored the worried voice, his ears ringing, his sight narrowing.

::Tony? What’s wrong? Tony?!::

He stood rooted to the spot, eyes tracking around the immediate area of the show room, the sense of someone being right there increasing. He had never felt something like this before. It wasn’t like being aware of Roddy through Extremis. And even that had changed ever since Hot Rod had become Rodimus Prime. No, this was different.

::Anthony Edward Stark!::

He flinched a little and blinked. ::Roddy?::

::Yes! Great Cybertron, what’s wrong?::

The young Prime sounded agitated, close to simply leaving the exhibit and making sure Stark was okay.

::I… I felt… It’s weird…::

::Tony, explain!:: Rodimus demanded, his voice harder than before.

If the situation had been different, Tony would have smiled at the command suddenly present in his friend’s voice.

::I felt something. Still do::

He kept looking around, his feet involuntarily taking him to where he sensed the tingling the most. ::Something… someone…. He’s here and he’s watching…::

Tony stopped near the middle of this section of the show room, eyes on a very smooth, very hot, very cool looking design car. People were crowding around it, peering inside. It was one of those visionary future cars, one of a kind, not for sale. Two girls were posing next to the open doors.

::Found him:: Tony breathed.

::Are you sure?::

Yes, he was. He could feel it in his very bones. This was him, whoever he was. This was their target. He might not be broadcasting, he might be trying to mask his signature, but Tony simply knew.

::How?:: Rodimus wanted to know.

::I… can’t explain it, Roddy. I know.::

There was a moment of silence, then Rodimus gave a nod. Well, it felt like a nod to someone who was used to communicating with an alien mechanoid through the Extremis nanovirus.

::Tonight:: Rodimus decided.

 

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And for those interested in the looks of the R8 Razor, go here:

http://www.egmcartech.com/2008/11/26/ppis-audi-r8-razor-gtr-goes-from-0-to-60-in-37-secs/

Hellooooo, sexy car!

 

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“Man, what a crowd.”

Raoul pushed back the hair that had come loose from the pony tail it usually was in and surveyed the last stragglers leaving the showroom. Security was ushering them outside, leaving the dealers and the tuning freaks alone. He glanced at the super-futuristic car next to his own. He ran an appraising eye over the smooth lines, the really nifty color scheme, the super-light frame, then turned his back on it with a shake of his head.

His own car was equally cool, just not some hybrid super-fuel-saving, eco-friendly vision. It was what he had made of it in years of hard work and saving every penny. Raoul had worked his ass off at his Dad’s junk yard to get the car whatever it needed, whatever he could to keep it running. The car in turn had tried to become what Raoul envisioned it to be.

“You okay?” he asked softly when everyone was gone.

“It’s different from the last show,” was the low reply. “More people.”

“This is LA. Wait until we hit New York. Then you get people.”

A soft moan answered him. Raoul grinned.

At twenty-three he had made himself a name as the guy to go to when you wanted a really special car job done. Raoul did inside and outside tuning. He added small features or turned the car into whatever the customer wanted. Even if it meant the car looked hideous in his own eyes. The customer was king. His parents had given him the money to set up shop, believing in their son and his talent. That this talent had been honed under the tutelage of an alien robot… well, no one had to know.

Raoul knew people, influential car people, and it was how he had scored this show. He had tweaked two hot rods for the buddy who had gotten him here and he knew he owed that guy even more, even if G would never collect. He was a cool guy and he always claimed he had made Raoul what he was today: a friggin’ car tweaking genius. Raoul never corrected him.

“One more day, then we’re done. I’ve spread the word and we already have a good amount of interest in the shop. I think I can get a few contracts out of this.”

Because Body Works, his very own car tuning shop, was the best of the best. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he could do, and he knew there was no end to the things he could offer. Ten years of growing up and working and living with an alien mechanoid that transformed into a car taught you a thing or two the normal mechanic didn’t know. Raoul had been very quick to learn and Drift had, at first reluctantly, been a good teacher.

It had been Drift he had tried to steal ten years ago. It had been the most horrifying night of his life, trapped in what appeared to him like a demon car, and he had thought he would have to die. As it was, he had survived that night.

And he had become friends with a talking car. An alien, talking car.

Today Drift was very much part of his life and he didn’t know what it was like not to be around him. The fear had made way to friendship and while he understood that the mech was a fugitive from his own people, had been running with the bad guys, Raoul also understood that people could change. His own life had changed and he had been close to the wrong crowd, too.

“I’ll grab a bite to eat with the other guys,” Raoul now said, patting the sleek and smooth hood. “You’ll be okay?”

“Of course. Go. Have fun.”

Raoul grinned, then left the show room. He flashed his dealers’ badge and headed for the parking lot behind the exhibition area. It was where all the trucks were parked and where some of the other car nuts hung out. Someone had mentioned a barbecue and Raoul planned to grab some food, drink, and enjoy the shop talk.

“Yo, Raoul!” a middle-aged guy with stringy blond hair that always looked tangly called.

“Doug,” he acknowledged.

Doug Messner was THE guy to go to if you wanted a very exclusive and unique airbrush done. He was an artist and a magician with his tools of trade.

“How’s business?”

“Smooth,” Doug replied, handing Raoul a beer. “Even if you don’t look like you’re old enough t’drink,” he commented, nodding at the bottle.

Raoul snorted and took a long pull. He might not look it, but he was. The long hair and beard shadow never helped either.

“Good genes.”

“Baby-face isn’t good genes,” another guy laughed.

“Aw, don’t listen to those jokers,” a red-headed woman called Melissa told him good-naturedly. “I like my men young and virile.”

Laughter greeted that statement.

Raoul grinned and relaxed among his friends. Life was good. He knew who he owed it to and gave a silent toast to Drift.

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The first time they had come to LA Tony and Rodimus had met up with Jazz and Barricade, looking for the elusive mech whose signal they had picked up. They had searched for three days, the whole time the car show had been happening, but no signs at all. Barricade and Jazz had returned to Nevada whole Rodimus had stayed with Tony, on the look-out for the signal.

It had stayed lost.

The young Prime had enjoyed his time with his friend, but he had had to leave soon.

Tony had continued to look for the elusive mech, but until two days ago it had stayed lost.

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The show room was silent and mostly dark. A few spotlights were still on, but after a while even those were switched off. Only the emergency lights remained. The crews had left, some hanging out among the trucks that had hauled their cars and parts here, drinking and catching up on how their friends and colleagues’ had fared throughout the past months.

Tony Stark smiled to himself as he walked silently through the rows of cars. He hadn’t put on his Iron Man armor yet, but he had already called upon Extremis to cover his skin in a sleek, black substance. There were a few ‘nodes’, reddish crystalline structures that gave him even more of a protoform look than simply the black outfit. Rodimus remained silent in his head, despite the open connection, scanning and waiting. It felt good to be on a mission again. He wasn’t cut out for an office job. He loved his company, took pride in what Stark Industries stood for, but he just couldn’t be the model CEO. He needed the kicks. He needed to do something other than place his signature under a contract. He needed to live.

He stopped in front of the BMW exhibit, admiring the white and blue Vision. It would fit perfectly into his collection and he made a mental note to get back to the BMW crew. He switched his gaze to the tuning facility next to it. It was a private auto shop, lucky to get a spot in such a prestigious show, and he probably had had some good connections bring him in. Or money.

The exhibit was a Ford Shelby GT. It was a black and silver model, aesthetically designed and colored, and the work the auto shop had done had been tasteful. Nothing over the top, but still enough to show that the mechanic had talent. Tony let his gaze sweep around the exhibit area, but he saw no one. Security was mostly automatic, something he and Roddy could easily fool, and the few remaining human security officers had already made their rounds.

The prickle of knowledge was back again. Despite the fact that they no longer picked up the signal, this was their target. He knew it. Like he knew where Rodimus was. None of the other cars felt like this one.

“Hello,” he said quietly. “I know who you are.”

No reaction. He hadn’t expected one either. So Tony scanned quite openly. Rodimus had in the meantime left his exhibit area and transformed. The moment he stepped closer, the reaction of the unknown mech was quite intense. Actually, it was more than either had expected.

The Shelby transformed and launched himself at Rodimus, making him fall back, then he kicked out and had him on his butt. Tony had reacted without thinking, calling his armor from subspace, and fired his repulsors at the mech. The attacker stumbled back. He was a head taller than Bumblebee, sleek in design and build, and had a basic dark silver color. The armor had the black color of the car. Weapons weren’t openly displayed and he didn’t show any canons attached to his arms or back.

And red optics looked at the smaller opponent.

::Decepticon!::

There was no visible sigil that told of the affiliation, but the optics were a dead giveaway. Part of Tony had always been confused as to why the mechs made the difference in optic color to begin with – it was such a blatant hint as to whose side you were on – but that part didn’t care right now.

Rodimus already had his gun in one hand and was aiming at the enemy, but the Decepticon was too fast. He dodged the first shot, which blew out a large screen that usually ran ad material for BMW, then toppled over the displays.

The young Prime gave chase, Iron Man hot on his trail. He armored human Prime overtook his friend and fired repeatedly at the fleeing mech, but he only managed to hit once and that only scorched one shoulder. He got a car thrown at him for his trouble. The eco friendly two-seater crashed into one of the hybrid SUVs, totaled itself and seriously scrapped the other. Before he could react, another object came his way, and when Tony evade, he received a blow to the side that nearly had him crash.

::Little shit!:: he breathed and fired at the Decepticon for his troubles.

Rodimus only grunted, trying to aim for their fugitive, but the mech knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. He kept completely out of the line of fire.

The Decepticon wasn’t much larger or smaller than himself. He appeared to have been constructed for speed and maybe even stealth, not the front-line heavy-armor version of a soldier. He was fast, Rodimus had to give him that. Fast and agile and barely touching any of the exhibits as he fled. Rodimus was doing most of the damage trying to hit the guy. ‘Trying’ being the operative word.

::He’s not getting out that way:: Iron Man sent via Extremis.

Rodimus wasn’t fooled into thinking that no escape route equaled a surrender.

He was only too right.

He heard Tony curse as the Decepticon flung a banner at the smaller figure, trapping him briefly in the flexible material, and then shot back the way he had come.

The Shelby GT came Rodimus’s way at break-neck speed, making no move to slow down. Rodimus aimed his gun at the approaching vehicle, losing a few shots, but aside from making him swerve a little, nothing much was accomplished.

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Drift knew from countless battles that he had only one chance. He didn’t know the Autobot trying to take him down, but he didn’t need to. He simply took the direct approach, startling the Autobot. Drift transformed, using his momentum to kick out the legs from under his opponent, smiling grimly at the gasp of surprise. They crashed through the wall, showering the area with debris and crushing several cars under them.

Behind them, something exploded.

Blue optics flared and the gun came up, but Drift hadn’t been trained by the best for nothing. He ripped the gun out of the Autobot’s hands, then flung it away, simultaneously plunging a thin, long metal stick into the mid-section of his opponent.

Optics widened with pain, a wheeze escaping the other mech, and Drift stepped back. Information flashed over his optics, all the weak spots, all the strongly armored areas, all the points of impact, everything he needed to take this one down.

He took another step back, deactivating the program. He didn’t want it, didn’t need it, but it was so much part of him not even Raoul’s work on him had changed that. It was who he had been, not who he was now.

“This won’t kill you,” he told the Autobot who was staring at him. “In a minute or two you’ll be able to move and pull it out.”

“Who are you?” the other hissed, voice filled with pain.

Drift shook his head. “No one.”

The alarms ringing all around him were finally yielding results. The fight had lasted less than ten minutes and by now police, fire fighters and security were arriving. There was a fire eating away at the structure at the back and soon the whole thing would become unstable. So far the building protected both mechs from being seen, but the moment the helpers went around the back that would change.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and transformed.

He located Raoul, who had been ushered away by police and security. The crowd of humans who had still been in the area had all been either security detail or car guys. The latter were in shock. Their beloved machines were either crushed, burning or about to die another way. Drift felt with them, but right now survival came first.

He signaled Raoul’s cell and the mechanic picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he exploded.

“We need to leave, Raoul. Now,” Drift only said, the quiet urgency in his voice shutting the human up.

“Where are you?”

He gave him his location and a minute later Raoul came running out of the fire-lit night.

“Drifter?”

“Not now. Get in. We have to go.”

As they drove off, Drift smoothly changed his exterior to a different car and Raoul made a quizzical noise.

“I’ll explain. Just… we need to get away. Now.”

Raoul was silent for the rest of the drive.

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Iron Man freed himself of the banner and growled to himself for such stupidity. He quickly scanned for Rodimus and the Decepticon, then cursed. The Con was fleeing and Roddy was down, something sticking out of his mid-section between two armor plates.

He shot toward the prone form and scanned, assessing the situation. Behind him the building was creaking and groaning under stress and the howl of the fire engines and police echoed in the night.

::Nothing vital hit:: he sent, looking into the bright blue optics that spoke of pain. ::I can pull it out::

::Do it:: Rodimus replied, sounding strained. ::We need to leave::

And so he did. The stick was about the size of an eight by eight. A small stick compared to a large mechanical body like Rodimus, but it had hit the spot and it had paralyzed the young Prime.

Iron Man pulled. The stick came loose with a scraping noise and Iron Man flung it aside. Rodimus groaned softly and rolled onto the side, pushing himself up. Energon trickled out of the wound, but it wasn’t much. Repair programs were already firing up.

“Who was that guy?” Iron Man asked.

He looked a little singed, but he had had a lot worse from friendly fire.

“I have no clue. The signal’s gone, too.”

Tony grinned behind the face shield. “But not far enough to avoid satellite tracking.”

Rodimus blinked slowly, then smiled as well. Extremis at its best.

“He’s currently headed south. Doesn’t look like some panicky flight, but he’s not really stopping for the sights either,” Tony reported, sounding a bit distant as he was logged onto the satellite.

“Keep tracking,” Rodimus ordered and transformed, heading away.

Iron Man followed, launching himself straight into the night sky and away from prying eyes. In the commotion of fire fighters and police, Rodimus easily slipped away.

::He changed outfits:: Tony reported. ::Mid-drive. Never saw that happen::

The young Prime chuckled. ::We’re versatile::

::That sounds so dirty, Roddy.::

::Only to you::

::Hm::

::What?::

::I’m not sure. I think he enabled a hologram. He has a driver::

Rodimus thought for a moment, then just stored that information away. Right now they needed to know where the Decepticon was going first. And he also needed to contact Prime about the enemy encounter.

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Ten minutes later Iron Man cursed himself as he quickly went through all kinds of surveillance satellites and came up empty. The attacker had lost him!

::Blaster? This is Iron Man:: he contacted their eye in the sky.

::Blaster blastin’:: came the jovial reply. ::What can I do for you?::

Tony relayed the last image of the Shelby and his last position. ::Can you do a city-wide search for all Shelbys?::

::Will take a while and it’s not one hundred percent. He’s hiding his signature again, so we’re poking around in the dark::

::Yeah, well, we might hit something::

::Gotcha::

Iron Man landed next to where Rodimus had parked himself. “Now what?” he asked.

“I’ve been going through the registrations for the LA car show,” Rodimus told him. “And I informed Banachek and Optimus. About the havoc at the car show.”

Tony grimaced behind his mask. “Yeah. That. Hope our insurance is paid for.”

Rodimus chuckled. “Anyway. The car we’re chasing is registered to a Raoul Vega.”

“He’s officially registered?”

“Yep. Has been ever since Mr. Vega received his driver’s license, which was six years ago. Mr. Vega is the owner of Body Works, an auto shop.”

“So we check out the auto shop? You really think he would run there?”

“Who knows?”

Tony was doubtful. “If he’s a Con, which is highly likely, he wouldn’t crawl into a garage and  
hide. He might take the human hostage, though.”

“Could be. So we check out the auto shop.”

The Iron Man armor disappeared and Tony got into the R8, then they drove off.

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It had been a reaction out of pure panic. Drift had been among humans too long to really react like a Decepticon any more. He had at first zig-zagged across town, then snuck back to Raoul’s place. He used the automatic garage door opener to slip inside. His driver had been silent, just frowning at him, and Drift knew he owed him an apology.

As he parked in his usual space, Raoul leaned back, arms crossed, glaring.

“Care to explain now?” he asked acidly.

“We have a problem,” Drift blurted. “The Autobots found me.”

“What?!” Raoul sat up straight. “How?!”

“I… I made a mess. And I had to incapacitate him. I’m not sure I wasn’t followed, though I picked up no one. Raoul, I have to leave.”

“What? Wait, wait, wait… no! You’re not running!”

“It’s all I can do!”

“Drift, deep breaths!”

“I don’t breathe.”

“Stop splitting hairs.” Raoul scrubbed a hand over his face. “I need coffee. You – wait.”

He got out of the car and headed for the kitchen. Five minutes later Raoul was sitting on a stack of tires, drinking instant. Drift was telling him what had happened and Raoul listened intently.

“You think they’ll find you again?”

“Probably.”

“Even though you changed your outfit?”

“They know I’m here. They won’t just give up. They’ll keep looking and they’ll find me. Raoul, if they track your shop… I was the exhibit!”

Raoul nodded. “Okay. Gotcha. Not safe here.” He paced. “And neither am I. I don’t know those guys, but they probably won’t believe me if I tell them I never noticed anything with you, huh?”

“Probably.”

“Then we’ll shut down and hit the road.”

“Raoul, no.”

“You think after ten years I’ll just turn my back and say good-riddance? Drift, we’re in this together! You saved me back then, now I return the favor.”

“You can’t save me from an Autobot search party!”

He smiled grimly. “How do you know?”

Raoul headed out of the garage and to the adjoining apartment. It was a smallish place with a tiny kitchen, a moderate living area, and a bedroom that only had to accommodate a bed. It had been enough for him when he had set up shop. Now he opened a duffel bag and threw in clothes and other items he might need. Ten minutes later he was back in the garage. He threw the duffel into the car and climbed inside.

“Why?” Drift asked as Raoul backed the car out of the garage and then closed the door securely.

“’Cause I owe you. Cause you’re my friend. Cause this is what friends do.”

Silence greeted that statement. Drift finally scanned his human driver, noting the elevated breathing and heart rate.

“This is agitating you.”

“Damn right it is.”

“You can still leave,” Drift told him calmly.

“No.”

“This isn’t about you. They’re after me.”

“What for?! You’ve been on this planet for ages! You didn’t do anything wrong! Can’t you request amnesty or something like it?”

Silence.

“Drift, please!”

“I told you I ran with the wrong crowd.”

The human nodded. “The Decepticons. The ones who wrecked Mission City.”

“I didn’t just run with them. I killed for them.”

Raoul gazed at the dash as if he could see right into the red optics he knew Drift possessed in robot mode.

“I killed Autobots. Like the one who hunted me. I’m the enemy, Raoul.”

“People change,” the young man insisted.

Drift was silent, the engine humming softly.

“Listen to me, Drifter! I’m not going anywhere! I’m not leaving! We’re in this together! You’re my friend! I owe you a lot and I’m helping you. Trust me, okay?”

“I do trust you, Raoul. More than any of my own kind.”

“Thank you,” Raoul said, smiling. “And I know you’re not one of them. I’m with you all the way.”

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They left LA an hour later, the custom made sports car now a Ford GT that, while still a cool sports car, was less of a looker. They wouldn’t really stand out.

“Where to?” Drift asked when they hit the highway and wove through traffic.

“Lincoln, Nebraska.”

Drift didn’t ask why. He simply calculated the fastest route. It would take a day of non-stop driving, so figuring Raoul needed to stop a few times, it would likely be up to thirty hours.

Five hours into the drive Raoul pulled out his cell phone. He briefly debated whether to use it, whether they could track him, then decided he was already acting paranoid. He pushed speed dial and waited. After the third ring, someone picked up.

“Hey,” he greeted the other. “Uhm, I need your help…”

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Tony looked around the dark and empty auto shop. Well, empty of life. There was plenty of stuff here. There was no mistaking this as anything other than a garage where cars were tuned, tweaked and pimped.

But the owner was gone, as was the car they were chasing.

Walking into the apartment attached to the shop, Tony went through the rooms, looking for clues, but there was nothing. It didn’t look like the lair of the assistant to some evil conqueror of worlds. Raoul Vega was a normal kid with a normal job. He simply owned a Decepticon as a car.

::Nothing:: he told Rodimus who was waiting outside. ::Blaster got something?::

::A rough lead. They have apparently left the city::

Tony nodded. It was what he would have done if it had been the other way around. He went over to the computer, an old model, and switched it on. It was no problem to crack the password and he flipped through the files. Sixty percent was business stuff.

::The kid earns some good money:: he commented. ::He has regulars. They pay well::

He went further through the papers, but nothing sprang out. Personal mails came next. Extremis simplified the matter. He could work very fast and his mind was multi-tasking.

::Chat rooms, emails, car forums… Okay, got some personal friends here. Blaster can check them out.::

Rodimus acknowledged and informed the communicator.

Tony searched through the apartment, even looked into the fridge, but there was nothing else that could tell him where the kid was running to with an alien car. He finally left the apartment and went out onto the silent, dark street.

“The clean up team is already at the LA show,” Rodimus informed him as he slipped into the Audi. “It’s been titled as an accident. Fuel explosion. Details are being added. We got it under control.”

Tony nodded. “So now we wait for a trail to appear?”

“Yes. There’s nothing much we can do until Blaster finds us somewhere to drive. He’s keeping an optic out for Vega’s cell signal.”

“Okay, I’m in the mood for a greasy burger. You?”

Rodimus chuckled. “None for me, thanks.”

“Idiot.”

“I’m in good company.”

The R8 headed out of the neighborhood and to the next burger joint that suited Tony’s taste. At 4:13 in the morning the traffic was moderate.

“You okay, Roddy? That guy hit you pretty badly.”

“Repairs are still going on, but he damaged less than I first thought. He paralyzed me, but that was about it. He could have taken me out for good.”

Tony nodded. “And how the hell did he do it? I mean, do you know this stuff? Hit the enemy with little actual damage, but leave him immobile?”

“No,” Rodimus answered truthfully. “I think Ratchet would know. He’s a medic and he knows about body structure and weak points, but I would doubt it gives you the advantage in a fight.”

Stark shrugged. “He had the advantage big time. And there are pressure points on the human body that react the same way. A pinch here, a jab there, boom! Instant immobilization, even death.”

Rodimus drove on in thoughtful silence, running through his memory banks. They stopped at a drive-through and Tony got his extra large with everything combo.

They continued cruising around LA for another hour, then Tony returned home. Rodimus took up his familiar place in the underground garage and Stark went to be for a few hours of sleep.

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Blaster got back to them late in the afternoon,

“Got a possible lead,” the communicator said. “Bella Sheppard. Raoul Vega called her just before we lost contact and she’s on his list of regular email pals. She lives in Lincoln, Nebraska.”

“Okay. Sounds good,” Rodimus replied. “We’ll need transport.”

“Already waiting for you at the airfield.”

The Audi tore down the road and Tony grinned with the adrenaline rush of a good chase.

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When she was born, her father had been absent.

When she celebrated her first birthday, it had been only one parent present.

When she was six, her parents separated. A year later her father was declared dead overseas on a mission for his country. He had been a decorated soldier and she should have had more of him than the few years, of which she could hardly remember any.

Her mother remarried after a long period of mourning, and she had a little brother a year later.

Bella Sheppard was adopted by her step-father, raised and pampered by him, treated like she was his own. She never felt at a loss for parental love, but she knew there was something missing from her life. She sometimes caught her mother flipping through old albums when she was little, looking at pictures from before her birth, then the first six years of her life.

Bella didn’t understand at the time, but as she grew older she knew her mother still missed her biological father. It was why she broke off contact to the Army buddies of her father, why only one remained… who came by less and less.

As she grew up and understood more, Bella wanted to know more about the man she had called a father once, who she couldn’t really remember much of. Every time she looked at a picture she understood that this was her real father, but she had nothing but dog tags and the flag from the funeral. And those items she had found in the attic, packed away. She left the flag stowed in the deepest corner of her walk-in closet and carried the dog tags with her from that day on.

Needing to know more about the man, she called her uncle. Okay, so he wasn’t her real uncle, but she had always felt that Uncle Bob was the closest thing she had as a link to her past. But Uncle Bob was rather tight-lipped sometimes. Maybe he thought a sixteen-year old didn’t notice, but Bella did. As she had noticed the pictures he took with his cell at her Sweet Sixteen party. She had wondered whom for, but she hadn’t asked.

It was throughout puberty that she also broke out for the first time. Her mother blamed puberty, but Bella didn’t want to hear anything. She dyed her hair a different color every month and ignored her mother, as well as her step-father. She stayed out late, always close to curfew, and always went away on weekend nights.

Her school work didn’t suffer, so her mother had nothing on her. She actually aced high-school. She had perfect grades.

When she had finished school and went off to college, she met Raoul Vega.

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The building was nothing spectacular. Three stories high, brick, a flat roof, surrounded by taller buildings, it was home to students and people who couldn’t afford the larger, more modern apartments near the city center. But it was well-kept, clean, and not in a bad neighborhood.

Raoul parked Drift in a city lot, paid the fee, and climbed up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door to the corner apartment overlooking the street.

“Hello, Bella,” he greeted the woman opening the door.

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Bella and a friend had decided to go to LA and move in together. Her friend soon found new friends and a boy-friend. She moved out and suddenly here Bella was, alone, all on her own, and with no clue what to really do.

Raoul had helped her with her old car when it broke down and they had a rather nice talk about everything over coffee while she waited for her car to be repaired. For the two years she was in LA at college, she and Raoul formed a tight friendship. While he wasn’t a college kid and some of her friends looked down on him because he had never gone to college, Bella found he was the best friend a girl like her could have. A platonic friend, someone who wasn’t after her for a quick roll in the hay.

Still, even with Raoul and some other friends, Bella felt like she was drifting. She had no clue what to do with her life. She had no clue what she wanted to do job-wise. She had taken business and administrative courses, swimming in a large crowd, and while she had good grades, she had no definitive goal.

It was in her second year in LA that she discovered a love for media and journalism. One of her professors attested her a good writing skill, the ability to pick out the essentials from an article, a book or a paper, and that she could easily communicate the contents to others. Bella found herself with a new hobby: photography. She also dove into her studies with a new fervor. When her professor recommended another university, she went with it. She had never liked LA and a move sounded fine.

When she went to Lincoln, Nebraska, she and Raoul continued with emails and chats and the occasional phone call.

Now Raoul was at her place, looking tired, unshaven, clutching coffee like it was his life line, and he was telling her the most amazing story she had ever heard. About alien robots, transforming cars, good and bad guys, a war, and his own car, who was a fugitive.

Strangely enough, Bella believed him.

Raoul wasn’t the guy to make stuff like that up. He was a practical guy, he worked with cars, he had a small business, and maybe he sometimes exaggerated, but not like this. Never in her life would Bella have thought he would tell her about alien robots and that he had one of them as his car. Never!

Part of her was shaking its head at the sci-fi story, another, much larger part, thought back to her UFO freak brother’s ramblings about what had really gone down in Mission City two decades ago, about aliens on Earth, about occurrences in Iceland, Australia and, right on their doorstep, in Nevada. She had let him ramble, though she had looked at the Mission City stuff, mainly because her Dad had been there.

Terrorists, it had been called back then. Chemicals spilled and fumes inhaled. She had looked at the grainy images and had seen little more than blurry shapes.

“What do you want from me, Raoul?” she finally asked.

He sighed tiredly. “Really? I don’t know, Bella.”

His long hair had come undone from the pony tail and he swiped it out of his eyes.

“You can crash here, okay? Do you have clothes?”

“In the car.”

“I’ll get them. You get some rest.”

“Bella…”

“You said he’s okay. I can handle a talking car.” She gave him a thin smile. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll make battle plans.”

He laughed, but without humor. “This isn’t a game.”

“No, it’s not. But I won’t leave you alone in this.”

She felt the dog tags around her neck. She had been wearing them ever since leaving for college. Her mother would freak if she ever saw her with them, but Bella didn’t care.

“I doubt anyone suspects an alien in Lincoln. You can stay here, we can think about what to do. I’m not going home this summer break. We’ll think of something.”

“You know, I love you.”

She shrugged. “What’s not to love?” Then she was out the door and heading downstairs to the parking lot.

Raoul picked up his cell and called Drift. “Hey, big guy. Bella’s coming to pick up my things. We’re staying for a while. Don’t freak her too much.”

“I’ll behave,” came the amused reply.

Raoul lay back on the couch. He didn’t plan to sleep, just rest his eyes. As it was, he was asleep a minute later.

 

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Bella looked at the red Ford GT with the white stripes. She had talked to the parking lot attendant, given him ten more dollars, and Raoul now had a place to keep the car for the rest of the week. Bella knew Paul, the guy from the parking lot. He was a student at the U, too.

“Just park it in the back,” Paul had said when she had gone to fetch the bag.

“Will do.”

Now she studied at the sports car, briefly wondering about her sanity, then she nodded at it.

“Hi. I’m Bella. Raoul’s friend. I guess you know that already since you’ve known him for a lot longer than me.”

For a second she thought nothing would happen, then the door clicked open. She hesitated another two seconds, then slipped inside. The door closed, but it didn’t lock.

“Thank you for letting Raoul stay the night,” a rather male sounding voice said. It was a pleasant voice, deep and calm.

“No problem. You’re Drift, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Drift. Paul says you’ll have to park in the back. The cheapo spots. You think we can fake that?”

The engine started with a soft rumble. “No problem.”

Bella grinned and took the wheel while Drift drove to one of the back parking spots. He killed the engine when he had backed in.

“All right. That went well,” she declared. “I’ll get his bag and we’ll see what we can do about the whole mess tomorrow, okay?”

“If I may say so, you’re remarkably calm about this, Bella,” Drift said as she grabbed the bag from the back.

“Hey, I’m the next generation. We play cool video games about alien invaders, watch sci-fi, read the internet… and my brother’s an alien UFO freak.” She shrugged. “You shock me less than little green men would.”

It got her a hum.

She smiled. “Anyway. We’ll talk this over later. I guess Raoul’s dead on his feet and I need to shop for a man in the house. I know he could eat a house back in the days. I guess he hasn’t changed.”

It got her something that sounded like a chuckle. “No.”

Bella looked around the car. “At least he keeps you tidy.”

“I object to food wrappers, crumbs, sauce, bottles and cans,” Drift replied.

“Good for you.” Bella got out and closed the door gently. “You have my cell number?”

“Yes.”

“Call if anything happens. You know, someone showing up. Bad guys and stuff.”

“You can’t help me, Bella. You are human.”

“Which is a great advantage sometimes. RPG fanatic talking.” She smiled tightly. “Just… call, okay? Don’t run. Raoul would be crushed.”

The car shifted uneasily. “I couldn’t hurt him, Bella. He’s my friend.”

“Then let a friend help. You rest. Need any kind of fuel?”

“No, thank you.”

“Good. See you later.”

And with that she walked away, somehow aware that he was watching her. Part of her was a nervous wreck. She had just met an alien life form! Another felt strangely at ease.

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Raoul was out like a light on her couch and since he looked comfortable enough, she let him sleep. Bella dropped the bag next to the couch and went downstairs again. She took her bike, a much beloved trekking bike she used to get to and from the U, and headed for the closest supermarket.

With enough to feed a small army she came back an hour later and lugged it all upstairs. Raoul was still sleeping, so she grabbed her laptop and settled down.

For next three hours she did some internet surfing, even went to the sites her little brother liked to frequent. There were so many stupid and hilarious alien videos on the sites he had mailed her links to, but one site was a bit more realistic. At least it had the whole collection of Mission City caps and videos, as well as more amateur films about various ‘sightings’ of robots.

Bella finally switched it off and looked at Raoul.

Alien robots.

Wow.

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Eight hours later, with Raoul a lot more awake and alert, Bella was bursting with questions. She wanted to know and she needed to know, and Drift was willing to answer them.

“Where do you come from?”

“A planet called Cybertron.”

“Where’s that?”

“In a system your kind hasn’t even discovered yet. It’s very far,” was the answer.

“And who created you?”

“We all come from the Allspark.”

“Uh… some kind of machine?”

“The Allspark isn’t understood.”

Bella looked at the red Ford. “So it’s not some kind of factory?”

“No. Our sparks rest within the Allspark and are given to a protoform.”

“That sounds… weird. And you look like that on your world?” She gestured at the car.

“No. All of us have camouflage circuits. We transscan an object on the world we need to blend in and transform into that object.”

“So what do you look like?”

There was a moment of silence and Raoul smiled. “Show her, big guy. In for a penny, in for a pound.”

Bella knew she was gaping. She was gaping at an alien robot who had just a second ago been a car. To see it… see the transformation… it was so incredible, so mind-boggling, so….

“Oh my god…” she whispered. “This is fantastic! And he looks hot, too.”

Raoul blinked, then laughed. Drift made a quizzical noise. The red optics glowed softly and he didn’t look really scary. Okay, so he was big, sixteen feet at least. And while he was bipedal, the face wasn’t human. It wasn’t too alien either. The red armor contrasted with the silver ‘body’.

Smooth and cool and really fantastic.

“Underneath the armor is the protoform, the core of all of us. On my homeworld, many don’t really transscan, only add shape to the form,” Drift explained. “Warriors usually choose a transformation.”

She had so many more questions and they were burning on the tip of her tongue. Bella fought with herself not to gush, but it was hard.

Raoul grinned at her. “I felt the same the first time. Drift is used to it.”

She nodded. “I want to know so much…”

“Even more questions?” Drift teased.

Bella was stunned for a second, then laughed. “Yeah. So many. I can’t even get them into order my head!”

“Well, right now we have some time,” Raoul conceded.

Bella grinned. “Well, if that’s not an invitation… So how did the two of you meet?”

Raoul looked suddenly embarrassed and Drift hummed with amusement.

“He tried to steal me.”

“What?!”

“I was thirteen,” Raoul muttered.

“Thirteen?!” Bella echoed, aghast. “You never told me you were a car thief!”

“I didn’t steal any cars!”

“I stopped him,” Drift remarked wryly.

 

Raoul couldn’t believe his luck when he saw the spiffy sports car parked in a dark side street. There were a few other cars around, but they were wrecks and not worth a thief’s attention. If he wanted to join the gang, he had to steal something hot and cool. Miguel, the gang leader, had told him that if he wanted in, he had to bring him a sports car. He had to show them that he could do this, that he would be a useful member of the Street Wolves.

His mother had talked to him again and again about gangs and about standing up for oneself, not giving in to the pressure, attending school and getting a degree. She had hopes for him, that Raoul could become a mechanic because he loved cars. His father’s scrap yard had been his playground and he had learned a lot about mechanics. But the gang promised so much more. They promised friends and money and support. They would take apart the cars they stole and would sell the parts, then the money was split among the members involved in the car business.

Raoul wanted to be one of the involved ones. He wanted the money. Money could get him everything.

The car he had chosen would really impress the gang and he would become a member tonight. Raoul was sure of that.

Taking out his tools he briefly scanned the street, but there was no one. So he set to work. The door was easily opened, much easier than he had expected it to be, and he slid into the interior.

“Cool,” he muttered.

The car had everything and it looked brand new. Raoul started to manipulate the plastic cover underneath the steering wheel, but when it came off there were no cables. He frowned.

Damn. What kind of make was this?

He tried breaking the ignition lock next, but the tool broke off.

Cursing softly, the teen hit the steering wheel in anger.

The doors suddenly clicked shut.

“What the fuck…?” he muttered and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

He pushed against it, tried again, but it remained locked.

“Damn car!” he exclaimed.

“I beg your pardon?”

Raoul yelled in surprise and looked around in panic. There was no one but him in the car. It had to be some kind of new alarm system.

“Open door,” he commanded. Maybe the rest was voice-activated, too?

“Why should I?”

He stared at the dash. That sounded… not recorded.

“Open! Door!” he called.

“I’m not deaf, human. I won’t open the door. Are you trying to steal me?”

Panic broke out for real now. “What are you? Is this remote? It’s not a recording right?” Raoul blabbed. He pushed harder and harder against the door, which didn’t budge.

And then the engine came to life.

“What…?! What are you doing? Stop! Stop this!”

He drummed his fists against the window, jiggled madly with the opening mechanism of the door, and even tried to move the steering wheel, but the wheel didn’t move at all – while they were driving around a corner! What kind of devil car was this?!

The car suddenly accelerated and Raoul screamed in terror as they shot through the empty streets, too close to buildings, walls and other parked cars. The demon car suddenly made a 180 degree turn, wheel screeching, and Raoul was flung to the side.

“Stopstopstop!” he begged.

The car came to a sudden stop and he whimpered in relief.

“What is your name?” the voice of before demanded.

“R-r-raoul,” he stuttered. “Raoul Vega.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen,” he answered meekly.

“You tried to steal me, Raoul Vega, thirteen years old. Why?”

The engine rumbled deeply, then seemed to grumble at Raoul when the boy didn’t answer. He flinched and cowered back into the seat.

“I… it… it was… I wanted to join the Street Wolves.”

The machine seemed to chuckle. “Those misguided children? Why?”

“They’re cool,” Raoul tried to argue and it sounded weak in his own ears. “They have money and they do cool things…”

“Stealing is cool? Hurting others is cool?”

“I never hurt someone!”

“You wanted to steal me, Raoul Vega.”

“Who are you?” he cried.

“My name is Drift. I am from Cybertron.”

Raoul stared at the dash. “Cybertron?” he repeated finally.

The door suddenly clicked open and Raoul took the chance offered to him. He scrambled out of the car and ran away a few feet, then turned when he heard a strange noise. It was like metal brushing against metal, parts shifting, a strange hum…

And he stared.

He made a soft noise of disbelief, terror and fear… and fell against an old trash can. Before him stood a gigantic robot. The car had turned into a robot that was looking at him with red glowing eyes.

 

“I nearly shit my pants,” Raoul said, looking at Bella with a small smile. “Hell, I guess all of me. I was so terrified.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” was Drift’s wry comment.

“Thing is, as afraid as I was, I also didn’t want anyone to share this secret with me. Drift let me go, but I returned. Every day. And he got me back to school, away from the Street Wolves, and while I didn’t leave school with a degree, I had learned so much from him by then, I easily got a job and later my shop.”

Bella gazed up at the mech, who smiled almost proudly. “You should start social working, Drift. You’re good at it.”

He chuckled. “Hardly. But Raoul turned out okay.”

“Thanks,” was the sarcastic comment.

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They had gone for fast food in a drive-through and then driven to one of the many parks around Lincoln.

“What do you want to do? Continue running?” Bella asked between bites. “You don’t even know if they’re still following you.”

Drift shifted uneasily. “They will. I attacked one of them. They know I’m a Decepticon.”

“Was,” Raoul insisted.

The mech shook his head. Bella found he looked strangely cowed. For an alien robot he was rather human. She liked him, though she couldn’t say why. He didn’t strike her as a maniacal psychopathic killer.

“I’m a Decepticon. Not because of the symbol.” He gestured at the scarred looking patch on his chest. He had apparently tried to remove it. “Back when you had to choose, I made the wrong choice. At the time it seemed right and I followed Megatron, but the longer the war dragged on, the less convinced I was we were right.”

“Wars are the same wherever they happen,” Raoul murmured. “Here or on another planet.”

Drift nodded. “But I couldn’t go back. I’ll never be an Autobot. I can’t identify with their cause either. I respect the Prime, though. He and the Lord Protector ruled Cybertron together and both were figures of respect and authority. Megatron’s ideas about some things appealed more to me, though.” He sighed softly. “But that’s over and I could never call myself an Autobot. Not even for him.”

Bella shrugged. “What about being neutral?”

He tilted his head. “Neutral?”

“No side. Just your own.”

“I never considered it.”

“Do so. But to get back to the question: what are you going to do?” Bella asked.

Raoul leaned back against the wall. “No idea. If they followed us, we’re busted.”

“How did they find you in the first place? You’ve been here for decades. Why now?”

“A system glitch. I wasn’t aware of it.”

Raoul ran a hand over his bound back hair. “Drift taught me a lot, but I’m not one of his mechanics. I can’t repair all of it. I think it was something deeper inside than I want to actually poke.”

Bella nodded. “But you stopped it?”

“Yes. Still, they saw me. They know I’m here. Your world might be less advanced than where I come from, but you can find needles in haystacks.”

She chuckled. “Well, we need to make this a bigger haystack then.”

“But how?” Raoul demanded. “We need to keep running, Bella. If I stay too long they might find Drift.”

Bella looked around, seeing nothing that was suspicious. Out here, so far into the park, there were no buildings and aside from a shelter or two for family get-togethers after a hike, nothing disturbed the park. They hadn’t seen a soul when they had driven down the dirt road. The mountain bikers used a different road to their favorite haunts, and the families weren’t swarming yet.

It was quiet and peaceful and the perfect place for an alien mechanoid to talk to his human friends.

“What if you talked to them?”

Drift drew back as if she had slapped him. “No! They’ll deactivate me first! What I did…”

“But it’s been so long!”

“He means in LA. He attacked one of them,” Raoul clarified.

“But it can be explained!”

Drift shook his head. “I’m a Decepticon. Nothing can be explained. They’ll shoot first and scatter my parts.”

Bella frowned. “I don’t think they’re so brutal, Drift. I mean, if they’ve been here among us for so long…”

But the red optics only intensified in color. The mech was clearly upset.

“You could take on a new guise, right? And you could stay in Lincoln, let things tide over,” Bella tried. “I’ve got an extra bed, Raoul.”

“Bella…”

“You have nowhere to go right now, no money, no idea if you’re being followed. You can stay.”

Raoul gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

“Hey, what are friends for?

Drift suddenly tensed and his optics flared. He rose into a crouch and held up a warning hand.

“Something…” he whispered.

Raoul had sprung to his feet, looking for whatever had alerted Drift.

Bella had no idea where the humanoid figure came from, but it dropped out of the sky with such speed, she jumped back with a cry of alarm. Colored in red and gold, glowing eye slits taking her in, it looked like a robot.

Drift had gotten up, pushing Raoul behind himself, but Bella was too far away. She was staring at the new-arrival, but she didn’t move. When a car appeared not a second behind the red and golden figure and transformed, she ran toward Drift. But instead of hiding behind him, she stopped in front of him, throwing up her arms.

“Don’t hurt him!”

The smaller figure tilted his head, then looked at the mechanoid, who had raised his gun.

“Bella, don’t,” Drift said softly.

“They’re not going to hurt you! You did nothing wrong!”

“Who are you?” the smaller figure asked, sounding curious.

“I’m Bella Sheppard!” she said forcefully. “And Drift did nothing wrong!”

“Aside from running a spear through me,” the clearly alien mech said wryly.

Bella’s eyes were drawn to the tall body and she saw something glistening covering a tiny part of his abdominal area.

“You attacked him!” Raoul accused him, coming out from behind the Ford, eyes ablaze. “He did nothing! He didn’t so much as scratch your paint job! It was unprovoked!”

The newcomer’s attention was on the mechanic and the blue optics narrowed a little.

“Raoul!” Drift hissed.

“He did! We weren’t there for any kind of trouble! It was an exhibit!”

“And you are?”

“Raoul Vega!” he declared proudly. “Drift is my friend.”

“And your car?” the smaller figure asked.

Raoul nodded, glowering fiercely.

“Now that you know us, who are you?” Bella asked courageously. “It would only be polite to introduce yourselves.”

“I think polite went out the window when your friend attacked us.”

“You came onto him first!” Raoul yelled furiously, pointing his finger at the red and golden figure. “I don’t care who you are!”

“Autobots,” Drift said evenly,

“’Autobots’ isn’t an excuse for the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ approach!”

“I am Rodimus Prime,” the bigger mech introduced himself.

It had an immediate effect on Drift. The Decepticon stared at the other mechanoid, clearly shocked. “Prime?” he wheezed.

“Yes.”

“But… I didn’t know…”

The smaller figure looked strangely curious again, despite his lack of facial features.

“I would never attack a Prime!”

“You’re a Decepticon.”

Drift was clearly shell-shocked. His fingers flexed and he whispered a denial.

“Just ‘cause he was a Decepticon doesn’t mean he’s still one!” Raoul shouted angrily.

“You’re not killing him!” Bella declared, chin jutting forward.

The smaller figure chuckled. “Feisty.”

She glared at him. “He’s not your enemy!”

Raoul walked up to her, joining his friend. “He’s been with me for ten years,” he said, voice stronger than he felt facing these two. “I owe him what I am today. You’re not taking him anywhere or killing him!”

Again a look shared between the two new-arrivals. Finally the one called Rodimus Prime met the agitated red optics.

“I think we should talk about this somewhere else.”

Drift stepped back. “No! I’m a Decepticon, you’re an Autobot. I know how this ends.”

Raoul and Bella placed themselves strategically between the two factions. Both looked ready to use whatever was necessary to help Drift.

“I don’t just kill another mech,” Rodimus Prime said evenly. “Optimus Prime has already been alerted and is on his way.”

Drift was clearly trying to process that. “Optimus… Prime? But there can only be one Prime…”

Rodimus smiled slightly. “Things have changed. You know Megatron is dead?”

“Yes.”

“Things have changed,” Rodimus repeated. “We’ll talk.” He stowed away the gun and held up his hands. “Nothing more.”

Raoul shifted uneasily. “We talk till you got backup and then you take care of the ‘problem’?”

The smaller figure suddenly opened his helmet. Bella was surprised to see he was human.

“No. We just want to know who he is, what he’s doing here, and so on. But not here. It’s too open. You want the peaceful solution? You let us do this.”

Raoul warily looked at them, then at Drift. “How can we trust you?” he finally demanded.

“We haven’t shot you yet,” the human in the armor quipped. “And by the way, I’m Tony.”

“Optimus Prime is coming?” Drift asked levelly.

Rodimus nodded.

“I will talk to him.”

“Drift!” Raoul protested.

“I can’t run forever, Raoul,” the Decepticon said. “Not from so many. Not forever. You’d never be safe either.”

“So you let them do whatever they want with you?”

Drift met the even blue optics of Rodimus Prime. “I hope that what the Autobots stand for extends to me.”

“Cease fire,” Rodimus agreed. “Truce.”

Drift transformed and opened a door for the two humans. They quickly got inside.

Rodimus and Tony exchanged brief looks, then Tony closed the visor and lifted off. Rodimus transformed and led the way.

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A C-17 had lifted off from Nevada. In its loading bay the red and blue truck was patiently waiting for the drop zone to arrive. Behind him, Ironhide and Will were conversing softly. Ironhide clearly sounded aggressive and Optimus smiled to himself as he witnessed Will’s calming influence. Runes were briefly seen dancing over the hybrid’s fingertips as Lennox caressed the black finish.

“Fifteen minutes till drop,” the pilot announced.

Optimus acknowledged.

“A Decepticon,” Ironhide growled. “Can’t trust a Con.”

“What about Barricade?” Will asked.

The Topkick snorted.

“He’s still a Decepticon. Sigil and all,” his partner went on.

“Not the same.”

Prime was close to marking this day in his personal files. It had only taken Ironhide two decades to acknowledge Barricade as something else than a Decepticon.

“And if what Rodimus has sent us so far is true, Drift might just be another ally in the making.”

“Still won’t trust him.”

Optimus received a message from his co-leader.

::Almost there:: he answered.

As if someone had intercepted the message, the pilot gave a green light to open the bay doors. The soldiers in the back of the C-17 did just that and a cold wind whipped through the cargo area.

“One minute!” one the men called.

Straps were undone and the two trucks rolled to the open loading doors. They dropped down into the night on parachutes thirty seconds later. Lennox followed with his own chute. Like for the two Autobots it wasn’t the first time for him; as a Ranger he had jumped countless times before.

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The meeting place was an old warehouse at the outskirts of Lincoln inside the industrial area. Rodimus hadn’t left Drift out of his sight, and neither had the two humans. One of them was always close. too close for any Autobot to act. With night as their cover they waited for Optimus Prime.

::I thought you’d be the last to insist all Decepticons are inherently evil:: Tony remarked, watching the two young people.

::I’m not:: was the vehement reply. ::But he’s not just a Decepticon foot solider. The way he took me out… it wasn’t a fatal wound, nor did he follow up on the attack. He could have off-lined me, Tony. Still, that knowledge… he was specially trained::

Tony shot him a narrow-eyed look. ::How specially?::

There was a brief silence, then Rodimus rattled softly. ::There were some groups amongst Megatron’s ranks that were… you could say assassins in your language. They were used for hits::

::So he might be one of them? Sniper?::

::Something like it::

The arrival of Optimus and Ironhide stopped any speculation. When the tall Autobot leader transformed, rising to his full height, Drift seemed to almost sink in on himself. It was a curious reaction for a Decepticon. While the Autobots reacted with respect because of Prime’s position, the Decepticons usually didn’t defer to Optimus as a leader. He was the enemy. Barricade was an ally and fell under special view. But then again, he did respect Optimus. When he had given himself up, it had been to the Prime.

“Prime,” Drift greeted the tall Autobot respectfully and the way he said the word was... like he was honored and cowed in one.

Optimus nodded his greeting in return. “Drift.”

Ironhide remained in the back, fingers flexing nervously. His two cannons were out and ready to fire should Drift simply twitch. Of Lennox there was no sign, but Tony would bet the man was somewhere around.

The two humans looked defiantly up at the Autobot leader, both impressed, but both ready to defend who they thought was a friend. Tony had to give it to them, they showed courage.

::He just might be that:: Tony murmured. A friend.

::Huh?::

::Nothing, Just thinking. What do we know about him? Nothing. Barricade allied himself with you guys and the Constructicons were simply pawns. Maybe he’s really more. Shades of gray exist::

Rodimus remained doubtful, but he joined his co-leader when Optimus sent a brief request.

“I’m not leaving him alone with you,” Raoul could be heard, standing next to the Decepticon, hand resting on one dark red leg. Tony wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, how he was behaving. “I don’t care if you are god himself! Who knows what you want to do?”

The young woman had her arms crossed, nodding.

Rodimus allowed a fine smile to leak through the connection he had with Optimus and received one in return. The link had been fully established the moment Optimus had touched ground. It was normal for them by now, no longer a surprising by-product. No one outside the five Primes knew, not even Ratchet. Tony had speculated on it being something of old, since both were heirs to the Dynasty. In Rodimus the heritage had lain dormant and only come to the foreground when Will had identified the writing on his temple. He had always been a Prime, but he had never truly stepped into those shoes.

::They have courage:: he told the older Prime.

::Yes. I wonder if it is misplaced?::

::Look at Drift. I don’t see him controlling either of them. He looks more like he would want them far away from here::

“We will not harm your friend,” Optimus said out loud.

“You better not!” Raoul declared.

“But we can talk?”

He glared. “Don’t treat me like a nitwit. I might not be a college kid and have a simple job, but I’m not stupid!”

“We never said you were.”

Rodimus noticed the glance Drift was shooting at his friend, almost as if he was afraid the boy was provoking Optimus too badly. Optimus was noticing it, too.

“Raoul…” the Decepticon said softly.

“No. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together. He’s been with me for ten years,” he told Optimus angrily. “I don’t care who you think he is; I know!”

“Raoul, please don’t do this.”

Raoul glowered more. “I’m staying.”

Optimus nodded. “I accept.”

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“Do you believe him?”

Optimus looked out over the dark city, the lights of Lincoln twinkling against the starless sky. “I want to believe so.”

“That he wants to be neutral?”

Optimus glanced at his co-leader. He felt Rodimus’ pronounced presence through the connection between them and he knew how torn the younger mech was. On one side he wanted to believe that Decepticons could make this choice. On the other he had been through the same war and he had seen the loss and suffering.

“He also seems quite attached to humans. This display of affection is unusual.”

“He’s a Con. They know how to act.”

“Maybe it was an act once. But to stop a human child from stealing him, convince him to finish his education, and then stay with him? As his car?” Optimus shook his head. “There is only so much acting.”

“And he said he wouldn’t side with you guys either,” Tony joined in the conversation. He was sitting on the roof of the building next to the warehouse, at shoulder-height of Optimus. “I know it’s impolite to eavesdrop, but those two, Raoul and Drift, they know each other really well. I also did some checking into the kid’s background. Misdemeanors until he was thirteen, then he was just a model citizen. Drift apparently turned his life around. He may be a Con by your standards, but he really cares about the kid.”

Ironhide rolled to a stop and transformed after Will had gotten out. The hybrid was in his long-sleeved ‘camouflage’, only his face revealing skin. His hands were gloved. The two of them had patrolled the area, leaving the Primes to talk, but Ironhide was too twitchy to remain away for long.

“We can’t let him run around lose,” he growled.

“You can’t take him prisoner because of former affiliations either,” Tony told him. “He hasn’t done anything but hide. And if my suspicions are correct, and if I can read between the lines with a Decepticon, he isn’t in great fighting shape either. He was maintained by a human instructed by himself, and it shows. He might be able to take one of you out,” Stark glanced at Rodimus, “but now with all of you here? And with the fire power? I doubt Raoul patched him up that well.”

::Not everyone’s a genius:: Rodimus teased.

It got him a grin.

“So now what?” Will asked, hands stuffed into his jacket and looking up at the assembled mechs.

“Actually, I’m at a loss as to what to do,” Optimus confessed.

“Let me help,” a female voice interrupted, sounding annoyed. “Let him go back with Raoul!”

Will, still standing next to Ironhide, turned to look at the woman and froze. His eyes grew wide.  
“Oh my god… Annabelle!”

The woman stared at Lennox, then her mouth dropped open.

The mechs shifted their attention and Tony slipped off the roof, landing gracefully.

“Annabelle?” he echoed.

“It can’t be!” the girl exclaimed. “No way! I…” Her hand touched her chest, clutching at something around her neck. “But you’re dead!”  
Will swallowed hard, still rooted to the spot. “Impossible…”

“Annabelle… Lennox?” Tony poked, sounding fascinated. “I thought you said your name is Bella Sheppard?”

“I… my step-dad’s Eric Sheppard… he adopted me… my father… You’re supposed to be dead!”

It sounded like an accusation. As if Will had no right being alive.

As if it required all her strength and courage, she walked up to Lennox, eyes wide. Then she caught sight of the rather lively runes.

“Oh my god… W… what is that?”

Raoul was gaping at him, too, and Drift was whirring and clicking softly. His optics were focusing solely on the runes and he finally whispered, “Allspark code!”

He sank to his knees, optics bright, disbelief written over his features. Ironhide’s cannons whined as they charged, now aimed at the Decepticon who was too close to Lennox for the Autobot’s liking. Optimus just held up a hand.

“Ironhide,” he warned softly.

Lennox gazed into the wide red optics and nodded. “Yes, Allspark code.”

“But you’re a human!”

He smiled humorlessly at the Decepticon. “Yeah. Kinda.” His eyes were on Bella again.

“You’re really… my dad?” she asked, voice filled with absolute disbelief and tiny hope, as well as fear of the answer.

He nodded.

“But…”

“I’m dead. And these were the reason I died,” Will replied, voice shaky.  
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::Well, she grew up into quite a looker:: Tony remarked as he sat next to Rodimus, legs dangling.

::Stark…::

::Only the truth. She’s a good-looking kid. Not that I’m interested::

Rodimus gave him a warning look.

::I’m not suicidal. Extremis is useless against what Will can do to me. I like my life::

::Good::

::Speaking of altered looks… you still have those tuning features:: Tony teased. ::Like the sleek look?::

Rodimus smiled. ::Actually, I do. I think of keeping them::

Tony grinned. ::We really have to go cruising down in LA. You’d be a head turner. And a nice addition to my collection once more::

The last was said a little wistfully. Rodimus looked up, understanding in his optics. Suddenly Tony smiled again, the shadows only lingering briefly in the dark eyes, then they were gone, too.

“I have business to attend to. Holler if there’s any way I can help.”

“We will,” Rodimus promised.

Tony called the helmet from subspace and Iron Man took off a minute later. Flying home would take a while, but it was also what Stark wanted. It cleared his head, made him feel free, and for a brief moment Rodimus caught that exhilaration, then Extremis closed down the link. Only a superficial connection remained.

Rodimus smiled again, then turned back to the matters at hand.

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Bella hadn’t thought her life could get much more extraordinary. She had found out about alien robots on Earth. Her best male friend was buddies with one and they were running from some other alien robots. Now her biological father was sitting across from her, looking like he hadn’t aged a day since the last picture had been taken of him, and he looked like someone had tried out a new form of a really weird, moving tattoo on his skin.

She was trying to digest everything he had told her, about the reason why he had been declared dead, what the tattoos were, who he was now, but it was really a lot to understand. This would need time.

 

“Bella, your mother can never know,” Will said, voice heavy with emotions. “For Sarah I’m dead. It was for the best at the time and it still is. I no longer exist. Nowhere.”

“Yeah.” Bella looked rather solemn.

There were many emotions whirling in her eyes, though. She was either rubbing her hands together as if she was cold or twisting them.

Lennox reached out and carefully touched the moving fingers. She jerked a little, then gazed at the runes flitting over the point of contact.

They had found a low wall to sit on, a bit away from the others, and while it allowed Will to be close, it also gave them a necessary distance when needed. Right now the closeness was okay.

“This is crazy,” the young woman whispered.

“I know. It’s been crazy for me.”

“I mean… couldn’t you have told her? Sworn her into secrecy or something?”

“At the time Sarah and I were already separated. It had more to do with my job and that secrecy. The Autobots are the biggest secret there is. I couldn’t just tell my family; no one could.”

Bella nodded, but she didn’t want to understand it. Not really.

“I can’t remember you from back then,” she finally said, briefly glancing at the so familiar face. A face she only knew from pictures. “But I snuck the albums into my room. I took them with me when I left for the U. And this.” She pulled out the dog tags.

Lennox let the cool metal settle in his hands. He felt something inside of him constrict with the emotions.

“I don’t know you at all,” he murmured.

“Ditto.” She tried for lightness, but it failed. “And now we run into each other over a Deception.”

He laughed, but there was little humor in there. “Ironic.”

“Kinda.” Bella looked at where Raoul and Drift stood, still talking to Optimus Prime. Then her eyes fell on the massive black mech looming not far away.

“You’re under constant watch?”

Will looked at the mech. “No. Ironhide and I… we’ve been into this right from the beginning. He’s been my friend from the start. I think I would have done something crazy if not for his support.”

Bella nodded again. “Now what? I mean… Drift and Raoul… Raoul is my best friend. And I won’t let anything happen to his car. I haven’t known him for long, but Drift is a good guy.”

Will gave her a dubious look. She glowered.

“I don’t care about military stuff! I’m a good judge of character! Raoul’s been living with the guy for ten years, damnit! What kind of devious plan should that be? Live with a kid who tried to steal you, teach him about mechanics, help him set up his own body works shop…? Very much the idea of a crazy dictator in the making!”

Lennox laughed. He looked at his daughter and laughed. “Yes, I can see where that’s kind of flawed.” He grew serious again. “But we’ve had the experience with Decepticons. You two haven’t. There’s a reason why they call themselves ‘Decepticons’.”

She glared again.

“Annabelle… Bella… we want to believe in the good of Decepticons. We have a former one allied to us, but that story has a different background.”

“He’s neutral!” she insisted. “He could have done a lot more damage and he didn’t! You can’t go around judging people!”

“And we won’t.”

Lennox looked up and met the calm blue optics of Optimus Prime. It was amazing how lightly the guy could tread if he wanted to.

Bella jumped up and looked at the towering mech. “Translation?”

“Drift will return with Raoul to LA after he gets a complete check at the base and the necessary repairs. He will stay in LA afterwards. We will track his movements,” Prime raised a calming hand as she was about to protest, “which he agreed to. I will regard him as a neutral party.”

“But under probation,” she added.

“Yes.”

Bella didn’t look happy, but she didn’t protest. When Prime walked back, she gazed at her father.

“So… now you’re disappearing again?”

Lennox hesitated. “I don’t want to,” he finally said.

“But?”

He hesitated again.

“Listen, if I have to sign some papers about non-disclosure, top secret stuff, etc, let me do it. I won’t tell anyone! I won’t tell mom. Really! I mean, we had a few bad times already, over me going to LA, then Lincoln. She wanted me to stay in New York.”

Will smiled. “I’d like to talk to you, Bella. A lot. Like I said, I don’t know you at all. I just can’t take the next plane or train...”

She nodded. “Yeah. Bummer. But I could move back to LA… Or Vegas.” She grimaced a little. “Don’t like the city, but the U’s okay. I can get my masters there.”

Lennox regarded her with emotions clearly displayed in his eyes.

“And it’s summer break, y’know. I could go back with you. We can catch up… at least the first decade or so.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Are you driving back?” She gestured at Ironhide.

“We have a plane ride.”

“I’m cool with flying. I just need to pack a few things.”

He smiled again. Bella hesitated, then slowly approached. When Will didn’t react, she embraced him. He was a bit surprised, but finally returned the hug.

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Drift didn’t know what to feel. He had had hopes and dreams, but never that the Prime would accept his neutral status. He had told Optimus that he couldn’t be an Autobot. He didn’t identify with their cause. Neither could he be a Decepticon again. Megatron was dead and his last order to assassinate the Prime had gone against everything ingrained in Drift. His honor wouldn’t let him do this. He would kill whoever the Lord Protector had ordered, but never the Prime.

 

"Optimus Prime?"

Megatron nodded, his optics glinting. "But if you don't feel it in your capabilities to rid us of this meddlesome Autobot..."

There was enough challenge in his voice to make Drift bristle. He had never failed before. Never.

But the Prime?

The bristling gave way to a strange distance, to a paralysis of his spark. He couldn’t kill the Prime in cold blood. If he didn’t, though, someone else would. Drift himself would probably be terminated as well.

Megatron's smile turned cruel. "I trust you will succeed."

Drift only nodded once, then left, his feet taking him away from the Decepticon leader, the former Lord Protector of Cybertron.

Kill Optimus Prime.

Everything inside him rebelled against the order.

 

In the end he didn’t. He had already failed twice before, each time finding a very plausible reason why he hadn’t had success, and Megatron had given him one last chance – not without having Shockwave give him a glimpse as to what happened to failures.

 

Tyger Pax had been hell. A distraction by the Autobots to launch the Allspark into space. While the Decepticon forces had moved to the city-state to capture the elusive cosmic cube, Megatron had seen through the diversion.

As had Drift.

He had moved to where Optimus Prime had prepared to launch the Allspark into space and he had had the Autobot leader in his sights.

He hadn’t pulled the trigger.

Red optics were fixed on the Autobot leader and Drift knew he could take him out, could end this – or make it worse.

As the Allspark shot off into space he followed it with his optics. His spark constricted, but it also meant a change of this war.

The enrage roar of Megatron echoed over the frequencies and Drift stepped back into the shadows as he watched the Decepticon leader rush after his elusive prize. Around him, the battle continued, but there was also confusion, which soon gave way to the Decepticons retreating. Starscream’s voice shrieked over the comms and the airborne wings shot away after dropping their last concussion shells.

Drift melted away himself, a shadow in the shadows, slipping by Autobot soldiers.

He had failed his last task – willingly.

Now it was over. He was over. He was done for.

Touching the Decepticon symbol on his chest he drew deep grooves into his armor, rendering the symbol into a badly torn version.

It was over.

For everyone.

 

The existence of the Dynasty’s heirs had really thrown him. Optimus Prime was no longer alone; he shared leadership. Rodimus Prime, now that he had spent more time in his presence, did show the traits of a Prime, though he was really very young. The two Primes had mentioned more heirs, but their names had been kept a secret.

Drift understood. Actually, he didn’t really want to know. He was neutral, no longer involved in this war, and he wanted to be with Raoul.

Looking at the large plane that was going to take him to Nevada, then let him drive on to LA, he felt anxiety race through him. Raoul was sitting on his driver’s seat, equally tense, chewing his lower lip.

“You trust them?” the human finally said.

“I trust the Prime.”

“He’s not god. I mean, I respect my president, too, but I also know that potentially dangerous people end up somewhere they can’t be trouble any more…”

“Raoul…” Drift stopped, then sighed softly. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s complicated…”

“Uncomplicate it for me.”

The mech shifted a little. “The Prime has always been part of our society. I can’t but respect him. It’s why I couldn’t assassinate him. Don’t get me wrong. I would defend myself, take his spark should he attack me, but what Megatron ordered went against everything I believed in. Defeating the Autobots was one thing; taking the Prime’s spark…”

Raoul looked at the dark dash, silent.

“He won’t go against his word. He will see me as neutral.”

Still silence.

“Raoul?”

The young man sighed explosively. “Okay, I trust you with that. I wouldn’t take that guy’s word, but it’s probably too alien for me to understand. Humans tend to lie; even the great leaders.”

“As do Cybertronians.”

“Still…”

“Still,” Drift agreed.

The Ford finally started his engine and rolled toward the C-17. He parked next to the younger Prime and was strapped down. Raoul reluctantly moved to the seats, exchanging a brief smile with Bella. The girl was talking to that Lennox guy, who was apparently her father. Raoul had yet to get the whole story out of her. She was sticking to him like glue and the way it looked they were catching up on her whole life.

The transporter’s loading doors closed and it started to taxi toward the take-off area. Raoul tensely watched proceedings, never leaving Drift out of his sight.

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The arrival at Nevada had been under intense security. The C-17 had rolled to a stop away from the base and Drift had driven out of the loading bay under heavy scrutiny, quite aware of the weapons aimed at him. Humans with guns, all able to seriously harm a Cybertronian, were standing at attention.

Raoul had refused to stay out of the Ford. He had argued that with him inside, the Autobots wouldn’t shoot at the Decepticon. Bella had immediately slipped into the co-driver’s seat, daring either of them to comment.

“So he’s your Dad?” Raoul asked as they followed Optimus Prime’s huge truck form, trailed by Rodimus Prime and the black GMC Topkick called Ironhide.

She nodded. “He died when I was six. At least I thought he had. He had been declared dead.”

“Well, he looks alive. A bit weird, but alive.” He shot her an apologetic look.

She gave him a watery smile. “I know. And no offense taken. This is one heck of a week.”

He chuckled. “Tell me about it.”

Drift’s engine made nervous rumbles as they came closer to the large hangar. The open doors looked foreboding. Another mech was already waiting there. He was smaller than the others they had met so far, silver, and his optics were visored.

As they passed by him and the last of the security detail was inside, the hangar doors closed. Drift’s nervousness increased and he was visibly fighting with himself. Bella got out, but didn’t step away from the car, and Raoul followed her example. Drift transformed, immediately holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. All his weapons were hidden and he hadn’t activated a single defense mechanism or circuit.

”Welcome to Nevada base,” Optimus Prime’s deep voice rumbled.

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In the medical area Ratchet ran a quick scan on Rodimus, then closed the small puncture with expert skill.

“Nothing was damaged that can’t repair itself,” he agreed to what Rodimus had told him earlier. “All remaining damage was superficial. I’ve never seen these kinds of injuries before.”

Rodimus ran careful fingertips over the closed area where the spear had struck him. “I’ve never been incapacitated like that before either,” he agreed.

He slipped off the and headed for the door.

“Thanks, Ratch.”

Ratchet was already filing the injury for later study. He simply grunted absent-mindedly as the young Prime left.

Rodimus smiled. ::On my way:: he told Optimus over the private channel. ::I’m okay. Nothing permanently damaged::

The Autobot leader acknowledged. They had a neutral Decepticon to talk to and find out just what was going on. Rodimus was looking forward to getting answers.

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Will watched his daughter, smiling a bit sadly. She had grown into quite a woman. She had Sarah’s figure and features, but Will’s dark eyes and his dark blond hair. Unlike Sarah’s it wasn’t all curly, but she had a few stubborn waves in it.

He wasn’t at ease with the situation, but he had to admire her bravery and her loyalty. She hadn’t known Drift as who he really was for more than a week, but she trusted her friend Raoul, and Raoul trusted Drift.

“Not all Decepticons are raving killers,” Rodimus had agreed, “but they are dangerous. Their regard for another life form is low.”

But Drift seemed to truly protect his friend. He cared. He had argued with Raoul to leave him.

Will looked at his partner, still resting a hand against the leg armor as if he needed something to ground him.

“Don’t like it,” Ironhide rumbled.

“Neither do I, but we have to work with it.”

It got him an annoyed growl. He patted the leg.

Lennox’s mind was racing as to what the future would be now. His daughter knew he wasn’t dead any more. She knew about the Cybertronians. She had seen the runes.

Shit.

Life had just complicated even more.

He finally pushed away from Ironhide’s reassuring presence and walked over to where Bella was watching Drift and Raoul disappear into the conference room.

“May I offer a tour?” he asked, holding out an arm in a chivalrous gesture.

Bella gave him a small smile. She took the arm, looking a little cowed.

“You’ll be okay here,” he told her softly. “Nothing will happen to either of you.”

“And Drift?”

“And Drift.”

“How can you promise that?”

He smiled tightly. “Let’s just say I can.”

The smaller silver mech that had been at the hangar entrance walked over to them and Will briefly looked up.

“You a-okay?” the mech asked.

“Sure. Jazz, my daughter Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Jazz, second-in-command to the Primes.”

Jazz smiled at her. “Hello, little lady. Welcome to Nevada base.”

Bella squared her shoulders. “Nice to meet you. This is so crazy,” she added. “Corey would get a blast out of this.”

“Corey?”

“My step-brother. Younger step-brother. Eric was married once and his wife died. Corey is two years younger than me and just started college. History, old languages, that stuff. There’s also Peter. He’s fourteen. Mom and Eric had him just after they married.” She trailed off, looking guilty.

Will shook his head, squeezing a hand. “We still have a lot to catch up to.”

“My whole life.”

“And mine,” he agreed softly.

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Drift had never been in the presence of the Prime before. He had seen him from afar, but never talked to him. Now, after three hours of answering questions, he was still slightly cowed by the power this one mechanoid exuded. But not him alone. He could almost see the connection between him and Rodimus Prime, the strength they shard, how co-leading had evolved their potential. Legends of the ancient Dynasty were taught to every mech who came online. These legends had fascinated no small number of mechs on Cybertron and Drift had been close to becoming a scientist before the war had changed everything.

He had made the wrong decision back then, but maybe, now, today, he had a chance to rectify what he had done.

That the Allspark had been destroyed had shocked him less than it should have. Maybe because the runes on Will Lennox’s body had been so prominent. Optimus had confirmed that part of the Allspark had been absorbed in this human.

Raoul had drifted off after a while, too tired to keep his eyes open, but he had come awake with a jerk every time he tilted too far. Drift was silently amused by his friend’s stubborn streak.

“The war is over,” Optimus told him. “While there are still battles going on, fights being fought, the war has ended. Both sides lost.”

Drift nodded.

“Megatron is dead, Soundwave has left, Shockwave is on Cybertron, and we have no idea where our homeworld is; if it’s still even viable.”

It hurt to think of Cybertron completely dead, but it was a fact he might have to accept.

“Earth means a new beginning for all of us; yours has already started.”

“I like this world, Prime,” Drift told him seriously. “Its people, its life…” He looked at the dozing Raoul. “The choices I made back on Cybertron were wrong. I know that. But given the chance, I couldn’t be an Autobot either.”

“Neutrals have always existed. I will respect your decision to remain neutral, Drift. Unlike Megatron I don’t want to fill Autobot ranks by violence, threat and force.”

Drift nodded.

“I’d like Ratchet to examine you before you leave,” Optimus went on. “I believe you could do with a medical check.”

“I suppose.”

“He’s not falling apart,” a querulous voice growled. “Just because I’m a human mechanic…”

Drift gently touched him with one finger and Raoul huffed.

“Just sayin’. They think you’re the bad guy one minute and a scrap heap the next!”

The Primes exchanged amused looks and Drift had to smile.

“I’ll accept,” he only said.

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“How can you hide something like this?” Bella asked, gesturing at everything surrounding her.

They were in a small corner of the base, just one level down from the entrance. Comfortable sofas and armchairs were facing a fancy entertainment system, and a tiny kitchen with equally modern equipment. The coffee was hot and there was half a cake sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Drift is one thing. He and Raoul have this car gig going. But so many of them? And bases? And space travel?”

“It’s a matter of cooperation among countries. By now a lot of governments know. The military of those countries knows. We have close to thirty-five percent foreign military personnel on the bases. It’s not just a handful of people trying to hide the truth.”

“But…”

“Bella, not all you read and hear on the news is the truth. This cover-up has begun way before I got involved. They found Megatron in 1897. They discovered the Allspark later and made the right connection between the Cube and ‘Ice Man’. The president knew about the Allspark and hid it by building the Hoover Dam around it. All of that was black ops and still is. We have Clean Up Teams, the CUTs, who deal with removing traces either electronically or manually. They handle the press, make up the appropriate stories, set into motion machinations you couldn’t dream of.”

Bella looked stunned. “And the launch of ships?”

“In the beginning we had to rely on shuttle launches, but ever since the Orbiter program was scrapped, things were a bit more problematic. Blaster was our solution. He’s logged into our satellites and can manipulate data, video, audio or otherwise.”

“Gawd…” She shook her head. “This is scary.”

Will gave her a tiny smile. “I know. I never wanted my family involved. In any way. Your mother and I separated over my work, because it took up so much of my time, and after the accident I had to disappear. I’m so sorry about.”

He had apologized several times before that and Bella could see and hear that it was truly something he was upset about.

“I’m lucky,” she finally said. “That Raoul and Drift came to me; that you’re still here; that you are someone here, someone important.”

Will shot her a startled look. “Someone important?”

“Oh please!” Bella’s dark eyes flared with indignation. “Aside from the runes and glyphs and code, you’re not just someone who has to be here because you stand out. They could have locked you away, but they didn’t. Everyone here treats you with respect, like you’re the base commander or something. And the mechs, too.”

“You noticed.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“I’m no longer part of the military operation,” her father said evasively. “Call it a consultant position.”

What a lie, she thought with a frown. Her father was more than a consultant. She had watched him so closely because she was both fascinated, elated and terrified of what had happened. She didn’t want to leave him out of her sight, afraid it was all just a too good dream, and she had noticed. No one looked at him twice because of his changed looks. He was a common sight, he had command power, and he easily worked with the mechs. Sure, twenty years were a long time to get someone’s respect, but this was more.

Bella didn’t press on any further. She had no idea how her father fit into this. Optimus Prime had exchanged looks with Lennox now and then, and there had been almost something like an unspoken connection there. Maybe it was something you had to live with for a decade or two to understand. Maybe it was something alien that she wouldn’t understand within a day or two. Maybe it was something completely else.

“Annabelle.”

She turned around and smiled widely. “Uncle Bob!”

Will laughed with humor as Base Commander Robert Epps grimaced.

She stepped back from the brief hug and slapped his chest. “You knew all the time!”

“Military secret,” he said as if that explained everything.

“I hate you,” she stated without anger. “You would never have told me, right? If this hadn’t happened, I’d believe my father had been killed in some god-forsaken desert overseas till I died!”

“I was under orders. No one could know.”

“It’s why you always took those pictures, right?”

Epps smiled at his best friend’s daughter. “Caught me.”

“I’m not stupid! Someone taking cell phone pictures of me, sending them off god knows where… I always wondered. And you were really behaving oddly at my sixteenth.”

Epps exchanged a long-suffering look with Lennox. “Oh yeah. The Sweet Sixteen party. That was one of the handful of times I was close to strangling your dad. He was moping.”

“Was not!” the man in question protested.

“Right! You made everyone’s life hell! Including Ironhide’s.”

Bella shot her father a quizzical look. He sighed deeply. “It was a bit of an… emotional time.”

“Emotional my ass,” Epps declared. “Everyone was close to shooting you.”

At Bella’s look, Will sighed again.

 

Sixteen.

Will Lennox hated the number.

Six-teen. Sixteen goddamn, fucking years.

Kicking viciously at an old can he watched it bounce over the cracked tarmac. Sixteen years since the Autobots had first interfered with his life. Sixteen years since Captain Lennox had lost part of his men to some freaky alien robot, had seen a whole base being eradicated, and then become very deeply involved in the whole crap.

Yeah. Crap.

He kicked the can again and it landed in the desert sand.

Shit.

Damn.

Sixteen years.

He had told himself he had accepted all of this. And he had. He had accepted his new life, the abilities that came with it, the constant evolution… Just like he had accepted that he was attracted to an alien life form. Ironhide. They were bonded, he felt something for the mech he had never experienced before, something that wasn’t love like it had been between him and Sarah. He had accepted it all.

Until today.

Tomorrow would be his kid’s sixteenth birthday. Annabelle Lennox was turning sixteen. Sweet sixteen. She would be driving now, soon off to college… and her dead father could only watch from afar.

If he was still able to get drunk he would have done just that, but his cursed hybrid status didn’t allow him to even feel a little buzz.

Squinting into the glaring sun, feeling little to no discomfort at the heat that had taken a hold of the country, he briefly pondered the sense of hitting the liquor, then just shrugged. It still tasted enough of the bad stuff to help with the depression setting in, so maybe blowing some money on it would ease his mind.

Lennox turned and walked back into the above-ground hangar, wheedled the keys to the bike out of Epps, who had told him to get out of the base and take his bad mood with him. Will knew he had to make it up to his oldest friend, but not right now. Right now he needed to just go.

Taking the road away from the base he cranked open the engine and shot over the hard packed ground, not caring should he take a dive.

He ended up at The Watering Hole, which was no great surprise, and Hank served him a bottle of hard stuff. Soto was in on the secret of the mechs and Will’s special status, which meant he knew his client couldn’t get drunk. He still gave Lennox a narrow-eyed look that told Will he wasn’t fooling anyone. Not that he had even tried.

Taking a first swig, letting the warmth settle in his stomach, he wondered why he even tried. Old habits died hard, he supposed. Not that he had been borderline alcoholic before his change, but seventeen years ago he had at least been able to wake up with a hangover and regrets. Now there was only the knowledge and nothing else.

He had lashed out at everyone, mostly at his bonded partner. Ironhide had always been there when Annabelle’s birthday had come up, or the Lennox’s wedding anniversary. Will knew he was pathetic to still hang on to all of it, but his wife hadn’t died, his kid was also still around, only he had had to die. Sarah still kept in very loose contact with Epps and had sent pictures of the happy family, including the new man in her life, sometimes. Robert had given them to him. Will had cherished each, but he knew that holding on to this past was futile.

Today it grated on him more than ever.

Sixteen.

His girl probably had a big party with all her friends, with the proud mother and the equally proud step-dad attending. Just he didn’t have the leisure to be there. He couldn’t send a present, he couldn’t come and visit. He was dead.

And Annabelle had most likely forgotten what her father had looked like. She had grown up knowing her birth father was dead and she had a stepfather.

Fucking great.

Will eyed the half empty bottle.

Would he go if he could? If he could be completely incognito?

He didn’t know. Ironhide had asked him and had offered to talk to Ratchet about test-driving a holo-emitter. For some reason Will’s glyphs didn’t take well to being surrounded by a holographic field and usually managed to disturb the whole thing. Only with an Autobot near-by to uphold the field was it possible to camouflage him, though after about two hours matters grew dangerous. The emitter used up a lot of energon and Lennox created some kind of feedback. It was worse when it wasn’t Ironhide upholding the image.

Lennox knew he was screwed in so many ways and he had accepted that he would never see his little girl ever again, aside from maybe finding an image on the internet. Still, it hurt. It hurt so much.

 

Two more bottles later Will was joined by Epps, who gave him the same narrow-eyed look Hank already had.

“You done wallowing?” the base commander asked. “Or you wanna empty Hank out of good liquor?”

“Fuck off, Rob.”

“No go, bro. It’s either me or Ironhide’s gonna waltz in here in his hardlight form and baby-sit.”

Lennox grimaced. “He’s outside?”

“Keeping an optic on your skinny ass,” Epps confirmed. He sniffed at the bottle and grimaced.

Hank brought over a Coke and Epps gave him a nod of thanks. The Watering Hole had filled, but no one was paying them any attention. Will sat in a corner, out of the immediate line of sight, and even if someone would look over, he was a known factor.

“You want to see her, you know you have one chance. Take it and live with it, or leave it and stop with the misery,” Epps told him firmly.

Will scrubbed a hand over his face. Prolong the suffering or get on with his life.

After another bottle Lennox finally decided he had had enough. Not that he felt even the slightest buzz, but since this didn’t give him anything there was no sense in drinking any more. Hank accepted the dollar bills with a grunt and another critical once-over, but Will only gave him a sloppy salute and hid most of himself through hunched shoulders and a baseball cap pulled low into his face. Epps followed.

The large black truck in the parking lot was no great surprise. Will looked over, sighed, and finally walked to his partner.

The driver side door clicked open without a comment. Lennox handed the keys to the bike back to Epps, then climbed inside.

Ironhide rolled off the parking lot and into the night. Will leaned back, feeling too riled up and emotionally unstable to say anything. Ironhide took the long way, passing late night travelers, trucks and busses, and finally stopped at an abandoned truck stop that was about a hundred miles from base. By now it was midnight and today was Annabelle’s birthday.

Lennox closed his eyes and bit back his anger at something he had accepted for years now. A simple event had launched self-pity and he knew he should be above it, but heck, he was a father and he hadn’t seen his girl in forever. He would never see her again, aside from stolen glances at online images or by repositioning a satellite to spy on her. He wasn’t that cheap. No, he wasn’t.

Slipping out of the cab he walked away from the truck, feeling and hearing Ironhide transform behind him. Will looked up into the sky, clouds passing over the thin sickle of the receding moon, the tiny dots of stars.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said into the silent darkness.

“I was told that humans react irrationally sometimes,” Ironhide remarked dryly. “I didn’t think you could still surprise me like that.”

Lennox glanced at the mech. “You think?”

It got him a rumble of a chuckle. “I didn’t consider the many averse reactions you might have concerning your old life.”

Lennox sighed and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Me, too. It just… got to me.”

“My offer still stands.”

He shook his head. “No. I’d feel like a stalker. Some freak. I knew I had to let go the moment I was given my choices. When I died…” he stopped and shook his head again. “No, I have to let go. Really let go,” he said softly. “Not when they are in their graves and I’m the freaky survivor of them all,” he added darkly. “Now. Today.”

Ironhide said nothing, just stood behind him like a dark statue.

Runes flared brightly and Will looked at them, absently noting how subdued they had been in the past few days. Now they seemed alive, crawling over his exposed skin, and he could read a good number of them. Letting energy collect between his fingers he watched them rise and come to a stand-still on the back of his hands. He smiled dimly.

That was him. All of him. Shaped in human form, but inside him there was a lot more. He was so much more. The runes told him, reminded him, confirmed it.

Ironhide gave a soft rumble, the blue optics bright and of a much lighter color in the darkness.

Will knew he wanted to remain human. He wanted to look like the man he had been before the Allspark had messed around with him. He didn’t want to shed this life for good, just the part that had had to die. He had a new life, a new partner, and still a lot of his old friends.

“Getting tired of the human side by now?” he asked the darkness.

Ironhide chuckled. “Why should I?”

“You think I’m entertaining,” Lennox accused.

“No, just alien to me sometimes, despite all that is Cybertronian about you.”

He glared at the huge mech.

“We all cope with the changes to our existence,” Ironhide told him, sounding almost philosophical. “As you are trying to understand that, we are trying to understand your family structures and your range of emotions. While I never experienced the importance of the Sweet Sixteen of your culture, I know it hits you because it is your child.”

“A child who thinks I’m dead.”

“It was your decision, Will.”

Yes, it had been. He had made it, knowing all that came with it.

He nodded. Maybe if he had cut off all ties, if he had refused to look at what Epps had offered him… but he hadn’t been able to resist. It was too much for one man, he had told himself back then. He had wanted to see Annabelle’s pictures.

“I believe Major Epps has offered to go in your stead, Will,” Ironhide continued. “His family is still in contact with your former mate and offspring.”

He nodded.

Wind blew up from the desert beyond and ruffled his hair. He really needed to cut it again. Despite the fact that he wasn’t military any more Will liked to keep the cut. He closed his eyes, let his anger flow out, let himself settle. He had done this many times before, mainly to balance his powers, to not blow one of the ‘enemy’ in a training battle away because of his adrenaline spikes. It had been something Mixmaster had taught him, much to Will’s surprise. He hadn’t figured the massive Constructicon to be such a sensitive guy. Not that he would ever tell him.

Ironhide was silent, waiting, scanning discretely, though that was a lost cause on someone who could detect even the slightest scan on his skin.

Finally he turned away from the desert, briefly looking over the derelict truck stop, then his eyes came to rest on his partner.

“Sometimes I wish I could just switch off who I was before, but then again I wouldn’t be that person without my past. I think we humans have a tendency to hang on to painful memories just to torture ourselves at inopportune moments.”

“I noticed,” Ironhide remarked dryly.

Lennox grimaced. “Can’t say I won’t do it again. When she turns twenty-one, when she graduates, when she marries… kids…” He stopped, emotions welling up again, but he didn’t let them overwhelm him.

Ironhide knelt down, running a gentle fingertip over the exposed runes. “It is your right as a parent. Maybe one day there will be a way to see her without revealing who you are.”

“And how creepy is that?” he demanded, shaking his head. “Annabelle doesn’t know me and I’m not part of her life.”

There was a soft hum from deep within the mech, then Ironhide rose and transformed. Will looked at the black Topkick, feeling a small smile cross his lips. He finally got inside, the leather seat almost molding to his body. The engine was a deep purr that was going through his every cell.

Ironhide pulled out onto the deserted road and headed back to base. Will let him drive, just sitting back, letting the dark scenery lull him in.

Acceptance.

Well, not today. And maybe not tomorrow. But he would have to let go of this darkness, too. He had to follow his own path, one that was taking him further and further away from what he had been and who he had made his life with sixteen years ago.

Will leaned against the window, brushing a hand over the door panel.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Accepted,” Ironhide replied.

Lennox only smiled dimly.

 

Bella was silent, looking into the dark eyes of her father, seeing a pain there she hadn’t realized before. She didn’t know what to say and he finally simply smiled. Epps squeezed one shoulder.

“Now you got me back,” Bella finally found at least some words, even though they sounded lame.

“And you two have a lot to catch up to. I’m leaving you to that. Got a base to run.”

Epps left with a nod at Bella, his smile filled with so much relief she knew he was happy for this coincidence.

Lennox looked at his daughter and smiled. “So, Annabelle, tell me: what about men in your life?”

Bella only groaned.

 

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They had talked for hours. Lennox had answered what questions he could. And Bella had asked a lot of questions. She had also answered his own. About her school life, friends, boyfriends, Sarah. Everything.

Yes, she was at the U in Lincoln. She was studying journalism and media, which was a wide and interesting field.

Yes, she lots of friends, but no, no boyfriend. Boys somehow didn’t manage to keep up with her. And she had been dumped three times already, dumping the fourth one herself.

And her Mom was the biggest pain in the butt sometimes. She loved her very much, but Sarah Sheppard was a nag, a mother-hen, someone who wanted to know everything there was about her ‘little girl’. Bella knew her mother had had a hard time with her throughout puberty and wasn’t happy about her choice of universities or future plans. They had made their peace when Bella had left LA for Lincoln, but it wasn’t a complete acceptance.

She finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the next morning and Will regarded her with mixed emotions.

His daughter was back in his life. He had missed out on more than fifteen years of her growing up and he needed time to catch up on that. There was still an awkwardness between them that told the hybrid that he wouldn’t slip into the role of a father ever again. A friend maybe. A freaky, rune-covered friend who happened to be her biological father.

Ironhide had kept back, watching, waiting, and always close at hand. Now he opened a door for Will to climb in. Lennox slipped into the darkened cab and leaned back, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. They didn’t talk and they didn’t really need to. Ironhide could very well read the runes – those not in ancient Cybertronian – and he had been close to this particular human long enough to actually read his body language.

Finally Will opened his eyes, a tiny blue pinprick of light speaking of his still residing agitation.

“She’s back, Hide. She’s back and she’s in my life again.”

“But Sarah isn’t.”

The human smiled a little. “No. She can’t. I don’t want her that way back in my life anyway. Jealous?”

“Why would I be?”

The holoform coalesced and the bright blue optic-like eyes regarded him out of the black, featureless face. The hardlight form reached out and traced the runes stationary around Will’s wrist. Ironhide’s name.

Lennox nodded. He turned his hands to clasp the black hand, pulling the solid holoform close. The runes delighted, rushing to the point of contact. Lennox smiled a little.

“I haven’t explained that to her yet.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“You have a lot of past to catch up on. I think she can go without knowing about this tidbit for a while.”

Will chuckled. “Yeah. At least until she might ask the right questions.”

“Would she?”

“I’m just about getting to know her. She is… a lot like Sarah, but not completely.”

“She is your daughter, too.”

Lennox nodded. “And I’ve got her back.”

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Ratchet tsked softly to himself as he examined his latest patient. Drift was a tense, coiled spring of barely restrained instinct. The Decepticon truly didn’t want him poking around and he was making it clear with every move or gesture. The human who had accompanied the Decepticon everywhere was in the medical area as well, glaring at Ratchet the whole time.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the medic repeated once more.

“Yeah, right,” Raoul muttered.

Ratchet gave him a scowl. “I’m a medical officer.” He looked at Drift. “You should know better than him. We were neutrals, too.”

“Now you’re an Autobot.”

“It was my choice,” Ratchet told him, not ashamed. “Medics tried to remain neutral, but the factions needed us and so decisions were made. I lost colleagues to the Decepticons. Sadly, they were turned more into warriors. I haven’t met a Decepticon medic who wouldn’t sooner kill you than help you if you’re an Autobot. Or generally not a Decepticon.”

Drift’s optics dimmed. “Yeah.”

“But I’m not like them,” Ratchet repeated. “My first priority is to help. And you need help. You’re not in the best of shapes.”

“I made do.”

“With what?”

Raoul shot him a scathing look and Ratchet was quietly amused. “With me, you pompous lugnut! I helped him. He trusted me to repair what I could. I left my hands off the really intimate bits and I’m no programmer. But he’s alive and he’s able to kick your asses!”

Ratchet’s amusement rose. He noted how Drift shot his human friend a warning look.

“What?” Raoul demanded, apparently well able to read such looks. “It’s the truth! I’m a mechanic. You taught me what to do. You’re still around!”

Drift managed a smile.

“I didn’t mean to imply that your work was bad,” Ratchet told the human.

“No, you just said it sucked. And since Drift’s the enemy, you don’t mind it sucking.”

Ratchet huffed in annoyance. “I won’t get into an argument with you about my ethics. Suffice to say I never turned away from a mech in need, whatever his faction.” He frowned at Raoul. “Optimus gave you his word that nothing will happen to your friend.”

“I trust the Prime,” Drift agreed.

Ratchet nodded. “Good. Now that that’s cleared, can we continue?”

“You mean before Drifter’s falling apart?” Raoul mumbled rebelliously.

“Raoul,” Drift chided. “I’m fine and Ratchet can appreciate what you did to help me.”

Ratchet shot the Decepticon a surprised look, but he didn’t comment. He simply kept scanning, poking and prodding, then drew up his work plan. There was a lot to do. It didn’t help that the human didn’t budge from Drift’s side, but Ratchet had worked with hovering friends before. He could do so again.

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Bella had woken up alone and the clock on the night stand of the guest quarters told her it was only 4 a.m. Still, she felt wide awake. She showered, dressed, then ventured outside. The base was terrifyingly big and she was glad the human area was marked in color codes. A helpful soldier accompanied her to the mess where she got an early breakfast.

Of her father there was no sign.

At least until she had her third cup of coffee. He joined her with a smile, looking as nervous as she felt.

She was still amazed that he hadn’t aged. He looked like the man in the baby pictures of her. Well, aside from the runes, and those she found… really cool.

He got himself a coffee and stirred it slowly. “Slept well?”

“Yes. I just couldn’t sleep any longer. I think my inner clock is screwed.”

He smiled. Bella had no idea whether to call him ‘dad’ or ‘father’ or something else. They hadn’t touched that topic last night. But they had talked about so much other things.

“This is so weird,” she finally said. “What do I call you?”

He smiled slightly. “Your choice. Eric is your step-dad.”

“I call him Eric.”

“I never was your Dad, Bella.”

“You were. For six years. But wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, you’re… young!”

He laughed. “Yeah. Curse of the changes.”

And there were so many. Bella knew he hadn’t told her everything. There would be more to understand, more to see.

“So I call you… Dad?”

“If you like. And if you can work it into your life. Bella, all of this is a secret. Me especially. If you slip when talking to your mother…”

She sighed. “Yeah. It’s just strange to call you Will.”

He shrugged. “Might be the best compromise.”

“Unless we find something else.”

Will hesitated, then shook his head.

“Okay. Will it is.” She finished her coffee, debated whether to drink a fourth cup, then decided against it. She would be jittery for the rest of the day. Bella studied the man opposite her. “So, what else is different about you?”

Will smiled. “A lot.”

“Shock me.”

He chuckled. “How much?”

“Everything. Will, I want to know. I missed out on you and now you’re here, alive, and I want to know what happened. More than the accident and the runes. You can do more, right? I mean, I see how some treat you. You’re not their commander, but then again you are.”

He nodded, gazing into his empty cup. “A lot changed. More than just a skin problem.”

She looked at the runes again, endlessly fascinated by them. They had talked about this extensively yesterday and her mind was still reeling from it. She knew what had happened in Mission City, what had occurred afterwards, what had happened to her father.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said and rose. “Everyone here knows, but I’m not an exhibitionist.”

She raised her eyebrows, but she followed him.

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An hour later she understood.

An hour later she was drawn between horror, fascination and disbelief as she looked at the dark bronze and burned golden skin color; the Allspark skin.

An hour later she knew that this was just the tip of a fathomless iceberg.

And she knew she wouldn’t be able to turn away from it. Ever.

 

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Raoul paced up and down the length of the, for a human at least, considerably-sized room. Drift sat on a metal slab that was the examination table, red optics tracking his human friend.

“We shouldn’t have agreed to this!” the mechanic said, looking up.

“There was no choice. It was a peaceful solution or something a lot more violent. I couldn’t risk injuring you, Raoul. If something had happened…”

“I can take care of myself. I duck fast.”

Drift’s facial plates shifted into a brief smile. “This isn’t about speed. I was lucky to hide this long with you. Sooner or later it had to happen. My signal dampener failed and I was exposed. It could have been a lot worse. It could have been a strike to take me out and off-line me without questions.”

“I thought they were the good guys.”

Drift reached down to pick up his friend as Raoul gestured to be lifted up to the table.

“They are Autobots. A faction of Cybertron. While I trust the Prime not to execute me without a fair chance, not every single one of his men would be so kind.”

“You put a lot of faith in one individual. Like I said, I trust our president, but he has advisors, he has people to think of, and a country to lead. If this Prime guy decides they’re better off with you scrapped, you’ll just take it?”

Drift was silent. Raoul slammed his fist against the red armor.

“You’re not some pig to be slaughtered, Drift! You’re not the enemy! You deserve a chance and I’ll make them hear me about this!”

“You’ll be my advocate?”

“Don’t be so sarcastic about it!”

Drift leaned down a little. “A few law shows don’t make you an expert. And Cybertronian law doesn’t follow human rules.”

“I don’t care. You’re my friend and I’ve known you for a lot longer than they have! I’d do the same for a human buddy of mine, wherever he comes from!”

Drift whirred softly, then clicked once or twice. “I wish it was so easy.”

Raoul glared up at him. “You really have given up, right?”

“I want you to be safe, Raoul. You say I’m your friend. You are mine, too. I like this planet very much. I respects its people. But Megatron stood for hatred and the intolerance toward apparently weaker or organic races. His methods were brutal, his single-mindedness feared. Too many followed his lead in that regard, were violent without reason.” Drift gazed at his fingers. “His ways seemed logical back then. Today I have no idea why I followed. Maybe it was easier. I didn’t need to think too much.”

“We have and had crazy leaders on this planet, too! They ruined countries and started terrible wars! Read our history and you know it! But even then the people of those countries weren’t simply… judged. Not because of their nationality. One person doesn’t leave a mark on every individual who once wore the sigil,” Raoul insisted. “People can change!”

Drift didn’t answer, just looked away. Raoul’s rumbling stomach kept him from arguing more.

“You should eat,” the Decepticon advised.

“And leave you alone? No.”

“You need food. If you faint, they might blame me.”

Raoul rolled his eyes. “Very bad attempt at giving me the guilty conscience of the day.”

Drift smiled slightly. “Please?” he only asked.

Another eye-roll. “How about we ask one of your guards nicely?”

He got up and Drift got the hint that his friend wanted to be lowered to the ground. He did just that and Raoul walked over to the door. There was a panel at human height and he pushed the only button.

“Room service?” he called when someone answered.

Drift groaned softly to himself. Raoul just shot him a grin. He would get food somehow, into this room, and he would stick to Drift like glue.

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“His general condition is rather good,” Ratchet reported to the two Primes. “His self-repair took care of the deeper systems, though there are glitches that need taking care of. Superficial damage was attended to by Mr. Vega. He has a rather keen understanding of Cybertronian technology because of Drift’s continued presence in his life.”

Optimus nodded. “It shows. While he doesn’t leave Drift alone anywhere, he does wander around a little. He picks up on things quite quickly, as Arcee confirmed.”

“I can’t find anything aversely wrong with Mr. Vega. He is a normal human and quite protective of ‘his car’. Considering that Drift has been known to him as a mechanoid life form from another planet, and he claims he knows what a Decepticon is, it is astounding.”

Lennox, who sat on a mech-sized sideboard-like feature of the room, shot Ratchet a neutral look. “You thought Drift was controlling him somehow?”

“No. It may have come across the wrong way. I’m surprised he revealed himself to a human the way he did, supported this human, was a peaceful part of his life – and tried to protect him in the end by offering to run off alone. Raoul is very loyal and this is a loyalty that doesn’t come from fear or threats or blind devotion. Mr. Vega is very knowledgable as to what Decepticons stand for. He claims he has friends that run with very bad street gangs, friends that were killed or had to kill, and Decepticons are just the same. That they can change.”

“They can,” Optimus agreed. “Jetfire changed sides. Barricade declared an alliance to us and has protected not only his spark-bonded, but also humans from harm. Drift wants to be seen as a neutral, though.”

“He has been one for all the time on this planet,” Rodimus spoke up. “And he’s been here for a while.”

“He treats Mr. Vega, as well as Ms Sheppard… Bella…” Ratchet corrected himself, looking briefly at Lennox, “as equals and friends. From the little we spoke, he respects humanity. He actually mentioned that he likes living among them, even in secret.”

“Raoul got him to be a car show exhibit more than once. He has to love humans,” Lennox remarked, smirking.

“So we really let him go? Back to LA?” Rodimus asked.

Optimus was silent, looking at the assembled mechs and one human. Tony was back in LA because of business matters, Sam was at Yuma base.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I gave my word. I fully intend to keep it.”

Ratchet shifted a little, but showed no other reaction.

“I want to bring in Sam,” Optimus continued. “I called him earlier and he agreed to drive over from Yuma if we need him.”

“And we need him,” Rodimus commented.

“Yes. I know we can’t end a war if we suspect everyone, but I also know Decepticons lie. His actions speak for themselves, but to erase even the last doubt I want Sam to scan him if he agrees to it.”

“I talked to Barricade about Drift,” Rodimus threw in. “He doesn’t know about him in particular, but he knows of Megatron’s assassins. Drift defied a command and should Soundwave or Shockwave find him, he will be terminated.”

“Walking dead,” Will commented.

“Something like it.”

“I’ll start with the necessary maintenance and repairs,” Ratchet announced. “It could take up to three days. We should let everyone at the bases know. Just in case.”

Optimus agreed. “I’ll prepare him for Sam’s arrival.”

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Bella could freely move through the base, though she never ventured too deeply anywhere. It was so easy to get lost. Twice a soldier pointed her back, the third time she acquired a rather small Autobot called Arcee as he new guide. Well, Arcee was small compared to the others, but she was still taller than Bella.

Her tour guide was an immense help and she soon knew a little more than before about the base and Arcee.

“I still feel like this is all a dream,” she told the troubleshooter when they settled down outside.

It was a nice day, not too cold or too hot, and the shade was pleasant.

“I believe it will take a while for you to process everything,” Arcee agreed. “You had a lot of information dumped on you.”

“Especially about my dad.”

Arcee tilted her head, the blue optics glowing softly in the dark gray face that was framed by a blue and green helmet. Bella thought the Autobot looked like a delicate insect compared to her taller and more massively armored friends.

“Will Lennox is special and has been ever since the accident with the Allspark shard,” Arcee finally said. “But he is still human. Despite what he sometimes claims.”

“I know. I mean, aside from those moving tattoos he hasn’t changed.” She was sure there was a lot he hadn’t told her and might never. “That’s kinda freaky, though. I mean, he’s my father. He should be older.”

“Those changes cannot be covered. He tried. I know it burdens him not to be able to move openly.”

Bella nodded. “Bummer.”

Arcee made a soft noise that sounded like a laugh. “Will has very good friends here. I believe without Ironhide things might have turned out a lot worse.”

“Ironhide’s the big, grumpy guy, right?”

Another laugh. “Yes. Don’t let him fool you. He’s an ornery, stubborn old mech, but his spark is in the right place.”

“He and Dad are friends?”

“A lot more.”

Bella stared at her. “Huh?”

“They have a bond.”

“Is that Cybertronian for really good friends with perks?!”

Arcee tilted her head, whirring softly. “I’m not sure I can translate your words correctly, Bella. Ironhide and Will are partners. Ironhide’s spark connected to Will’s hybrid body. He didn’t tell you? The changes invoked by the Allspark made him much more than just a hybrid. He is, essentially, a Prime.”

Bella held up her hands. “Wow, wait a second. He’s a what? Prime? But he’s human! And he’s not having sex with a big robot, is he?!”

Arcee’s blue optics flared once more. “We don’t have sex, Bella.”

“That’s a relief. Then what’s a spark bond?”

“It means two sparks belong together.”

“But Dad has no spark!” Her head was starting to hurt.

“It is difficult to understand,” Arcee agreed. “Even we don’t understand how it was possible, but it happened, and Ironhide was Will’s stability.”

She groaned and leaned back, bumping her head against the metal behind her. “This is a bottomless well. I barely get half of it.”

Arcee touched her gently, the elegant fingers tapping against her shoulder. “No one expects you to. You need to catch up on a lot and it’s not done within a few days.”

“Apparently.”

Her father had something with an alien robot. With an alien! Corey would flip. He would positively flip if he knew. He never could, sure, but if he could… Bella wondered when she had started to fall asleep and dream of alien mechanoids. Right now, it really did feel like a dream.

“My dad and a mechanoid alien life form,” she said out loud. “Please tell me that’s not something uncommon for you guys.”

Arcee tilted her head a little. “Spark bonds are rare. Sharing is more common.”

“Sharing?”

“An exchange of data and energy. It is without attachments, without a permanent connection.”

Bella blinked. That sounded very much like sex… But robots and sex? What for?

“And my father has a bond? That rare thing?”

“Will is no Cybertronian. It can never be a real spark bond,” Arcee explained. “It’s different. Will explained his hybrid status already?”

“Yes. Can’t be overlooked, actually. The runes and all. He tried to give me the basic version and it’s still fantastic. I mean, he absorbed a piece of alien whatnot and now he’s… he’s half whatever and… and he has abilities. I think he hasn’t told me everything. But that he and one of you guys… Ironhide is… isn’t he male?”

“We do not have different genders.”

“But you sound like a woman.”

Arcee smiled, face plates shifting. “You apply your views to my exoskeletal structure and the modulation of my voice. I can change the modulation easily enough, and my size is only due to my original function as a troubleshooter. We cannot gain mass and size, Bella. We are created with limits. Optimus can never be less tall than he is, and I cannot grow.”

“Okay. So no genders. My dad’s not involved with a guy, just an alien robot.”

Arcee tilted her head, looking amused. “My kind has emotions, too, Bella. We can feel deeply for another, even another life form. Myself I’m friends with several humans and one in particular I grew very fond of. We don’t ‘fall in love’ as you do. But the bonds are as intimate as we can be with another individual.”

Now her head started to hurt. “Geez… So, how many are there? Bonds?“

Arcee looked at her with. “Three I am aware of.”

“All humans?!”

“Two.”

So aside from her father there was another. Arcee wasn’t forthcoming with a name and Bella didn’t really want to know. She was still digesting the news. It was one thing to play online, to pretend there were alien beings and so on. Or to read about what people thought of alien sex. But her father..

No, not sex, she reminded herself. Wouldn’t work. Couldn’t work. Physical impossibility.

“Annabelle?” Arcee asked gently. “I’m sorry if this confuses you.”

“It does. A lot.”

“I apologize.”

“Not your fault.” She dredged up a smile. “I think me and Dad… we need to talk again.” She drummed her fingers onto her thighs. Finally she asked, “You said he’s a Prime, right? How’s that possible?”

Arcee tilted her head. “I believe you should talk with your father, Bella. I see there are many things he hasn’t explained to you yet.”

She nodded slowly. He hadn’t. The bottomless well had just gotten even deeper.

 

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Ratchet looked at the diagnostic screen, then nodded. He was pleased with how the programs and systems cleared one after another. There was a lot of data debris that had needed to be removed and from the changing expression in Drift’s optics, he realized just how bad it had been in places. Physical repairs were a bit more complicated since the Decepticon didn’t really trust Ratchet all too much, and Raoul trusted him even less.

“Barricade was easier the first time around,” the medic muttered as he readied his tools.

“He had a reason to trust you,” Drift remarked softly.

Ratchet’s head whipped up and he turned abruptly. ”He had as much as you, Drift. He didn’t think that his spark-bond to Jazz would keep us from deactivating him either! We are not Decepticons!”

It got him a soft rattle. “I know.”

“You’re a neutral now. What would we gain from deactivating you?”

A shrug. Raoul watched the exchange silently. Ratchet waited. Finally Drift unlocked an armor plate and Ratchet gave him a small nod.

He set to work.

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Sam arrived late in the evening from Yuma, accompanied by a change in the weather. Clouds had come in and in the distance, over the mountains, the rain was already coming down heavily. Thunder rumbled through the air and lightning flashed across the sky at the horizon. The base had been locked down already since the forecast predicted a brief but heavy period of bad weather.

Nodding his greeting at the guards, Sam walked over to Will. Aside from the Prime rune, the other glyphs were quiet and had apparently disappeared. Of course, they were never truly gone. As if to confirm it, a small string of Cybertronian crawled over Lennox’s arm.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hey. Heard what happened. Never a dull moment, hm?”

Lennox chuckled and they walked down into the underground base. They took the freight elevator to the lower levels where the medical area was located.

“Optimus told me about your daughter.”

Will nodded. “Came as a shock,” he said quietly.

“I can believe that. She knows everything?”

The other man laughed darkly. “How do you want to hide anything after she found out about alien mechanoid life hiding on Earth? She saw me, Sam. Nothing can explain this stuff.”

Sam nodded. “Guess so. She okay?”

“As okay as one can be. Remember what you felt when you were caught in the middle of an alien war on Earth?”

The technopath chuckled. “Only too well.”

“She hasn’t been exposed to the violence, but the shock is the same. We talked about a lot of things, but a lot more is still missing.”

“Like Ironhide?”

“Or being a Prime. Or the shape-shifting capabilities.” Lennox sighed. “I need a life time to explain all of it.”

They stepped into the reception area of the medical facility. Bumblebee accompanied him while Lennox fell back. The mech radiated tension.

“I’ll be fine, Bee,” his partner said with a fine smile.

The scout shot him an apologetic look. “Habit?” he tried.

Sam gave him a smile. “Appreciated.”

Ratchet tilted his head toward one of the secure rooms. Sam walked inside.

Meeting Drift was… interesting. While he didn’t get a clear vibe off him at first, the little he sensed had Sam interested. His technopathic encounters with Decepticons could be counted on one hand, but so far they had always been unique. Drift was no different. Looking into the red optics he kept his shields in place, not making a provocative move.

“Hello, Drift,” he greeted their guest politely. “I’m Sam Witwicky.”

“Hello, Dr. Witwicky.”

“It’s Sam. Optimus told you what I’ll do?”

A nod. “Yes.”

“You’re the guy who’s scanning him?”

Sam looked at the young man who came around the red and silver mech. He was of Spanish descent, with dark eyes and long hair that had been bound into a pony tail. He was dressed in jeans, a black shirt and a black jacket thrown over the shirt. Raoul Vega. The driver and owner of the car, and Drift’s friend for ten years. Hostility was radiating off the mechanic in waves. Even though Sam was a technopath and couldn’t sense anything from humans, he didn’t need to to pick up on that.

“You’re a kid!”

Sam smiled. “I’m older than I look.”

“Old enough to shave? How come you’re a ‘Doctor’ Witwicky?”

“I wrote a few papers, they gave me a doctorate or two,” Sam said, trying to ignore Raoul.

“Two?”

Now he did ignore him, his eyes on Drift.

Drift tilted his head, then looked at Bumblebee. He briefly seemed to scan the Autobot, then his attention was on Sam again.

“I do this voluntarily,” the Decepticon explained. “Optimus Prime explained the basics to me and I want to do this.”

That would help in the process, Sam knew. “Thank you.”

“Where…?” Drift made a helpless gesture.

“You can sit down. No need for an examination table. Just relax, let me do the work.”

Raoul was still tense and hostile. “And what is it you really do? Sneak into his mind and pry into his thoughts? Maybe you can reprogram him to your liking?”

“That’s not how it works,” Ratchet spoke up, clearly miffed. He was watching Raoul with barely contained annoyance. One more wrong vibe from the human and he would lock him out of the exam room. “We explained it already.”

“And you want me to believe this guy is some comic novel super hero? He can read machine minds?”

Sam shrugged. “Believe what you want” He met the red optics. “Drift?” And he gently touched the mind he felt.

Drift made a surprised noise and knelt down to look at Sam more closely. Bumblebee shifted uneasily. The Neutral’s optics were wide and awash in red light.

“You did that?”

“Yes.”

“What?!” Raoul demanded. “What is he doing? What are you doing?” He whirled on Sam.

Drift just held up a hand, shushing him. “Raoul, shut up. This is serious.”

The mechanic fell silent, gaping.

::I won’t hurt you:: Sam said softly through the surface connection. ::This is what I am::

::Amazing::

::I know:: He smiled.

Drift settled back, on the floor, fascinated optics never leaving Sam. The technopath took his place across from him. It was an unusual sight, with Raoul sticking to Drift, shooting Sam angry, suspicious looks, and Bumblebee keeping in the background. He had been Sam’s anchor long enough to know when he was needed.

Sam reached for Drift’s mind again and touched it, familiarizing himself. Drift made no counter-moves, actually inviting Sam inside.

::This won’t hurt:: Sam promised.

And he let himself slip inside.

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Raoul understood nothing of what was currently going on, even though Drift had told him that some freaky mutant guy was going to scan him. It sounded like out of a B-movie. That the freak in question looked like he was even younger than Raoul himself didn’t help. The yellow and black mech who had accompanied the Sam guy was watching the whole procedure attentively, but his optics strayed to Raoul sometimes.

“What?” the young man demanded.

Bumblebee, Raoul remember he was called, slightly shook his head. Raoul just scowled. Whatever was going on, he didn’t like it. But right now he had to go with the flow, let Drift decide. Because if things worked out, they’d be free.

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Drift was amazed at how easy it felt to have another mind next to his. Sam’s touch was gentle, light, almost non-existent. If he hadn’t known and concentrated on the contact, he wouldn’t have realized the connection.

::How do you do it?:: he wondered.

::I was on the wrong end of an Allspark energy pulse::

Drift felt a ripple. ::You are not like the other human. Will Lennox. Bella’s father::

::No. He had more profound changes. He actually absorbed a piece of the Allspark::

Sam dove deeper, like a swimmer leisurely exploring the depth of a new ocean. Drift watched, feeling a little more tense now that he realized where Sam was going.

A soft caress had him whirr in surprise.

::Nothing I do will harm you, Drift::

::It’s not that. My past is… violent::

For a brief moment Drift thought he saw a humanoid figure standing close to him, then that shadow was gone. Like an illusion that had never been there at all.

::I’ve seen a lot already. Relax::

So the Decepticon tried to do just that. He bit down on his reflex to push the other away from his more protected areas. Sam stepped back now and then, waiting for Drift to relax, or he would gently pry open a door.

No, it didn’t hurt, but it was weird sometimes. A tingle, a ripple, a small poke. Now and then he felt memories flash past him, some of them nothing to be proud of. He was standing back and watched as Sam confirmed what Drift had told the Prime already, and he wondered how the technopath would judge him.

So much violence and carnage and death. He had been a Decepticon warrior, an assassin, and he still had those skills.

Sam’s presence seemed to hum softly, calming him down as his agitation rose.

::They all killed, Drift. All.::

Autobots and Decepticons. To survive and to win a war.

::How many did you touch?:: Drift asked.

::Enough::

::How many were like me?::

::More than you think:: Sam replied evenly. ::More than you think…::

 

While Drift was a special case because of his neutrality claims, he didn’t feel different from the minds Sam had touched in the past. If it came down to the basics, all Cybertronians were the same. Some were a little more complex, like Blaster because of his symbiotes, and some had special features, like Jazz or Barricade because of their spark bond. But essentially, they were the same.

Carefully looking through Drift’s processor, always aware of the mech hovering close by, anxious and slightly more tense than he probably wanted to come across, Sam let the data scroll past. It wasn’t until he looked into one particular area that he stopped and frowned.

It was storage. He had seen it in others. A data dump where unpleasant or unimportant memory was stored. It was a place you usually only went if you had to recall those events, and because they were either very unpleasant or unimportant, the mech rarely to never went there.

Sam did.

And he almost drew back in shock.

Large ripples disturbed Drift’s mind and the Decepticon tried to block the access to the dump, but Sam simply pushed him aside with force. Gentle force, but force.

::Sam, no….:: he begged.

But the technopath was already in the middle of it.

In the middle of pain and torture and the feverish wish to just end it. He looked into cold red optics, saw machines in the background, knew he was on Cybertron, in a lab, facing…

::Shockwave?::

Drift’s mind grew more agitated.

Sliding deeper, now with a purpose, he went through the memory files and felt the shock deepen.

::Why didn’t you tell Prime?::

Drift didn’t answer.

Sam was too shaken to press any further, but he did wade through everything and he knew the other Primes had to know.

Drift trembled, his presence pulling back.

Sam reached out and held him. ::Don’t. There’s no shame::

::I was weak::

::You were trying to survive::

Drift trembled more. ::If I had followed orders..::

::I wouldn’t be here today. Neither would you or Raoul::

Drift nodded.

::You paid a high price for it. Don’t let it be for nothing::

Another nod. Drift moved back, away from the memories, and Sam let him. He looked at the dark times this mech had lived through. As dark as many. He knew the war had damaged them all. He had seen what Bumblebee had gone through, how he had been tortured by Megatron, his voice box crushed. He had seen into Barricade’s past and shared the horrors of a shock-trooper’s life. Barricade lived with it just fine; it was simply him. His personality wasn’t jaded, but he also saw no wrong in what he had done at the time. He had followed orders.

Drift had disobeyed orders and paid the price, had been sent out again… and made the right choice at the right time.

::Optimus owes you his life:: Sam whispered.

But Drift didn’t answer. He had retreated, a coiled up presence in the back of his own mind. Sam approached him, waiting. He finally connected to the mech and let a few things of his own life and past fifteen years trickle through. It got him an immediate reaction.

::Prime?!:: Drift exclaimed.

Sam smiled. ::Yes::

Confusion rose around him. Sam let more bleed into the area where their minds touched. Drift made soft noises of fear, awe, respect and panic.

::You’ll be fine:. Sam calmed him.

::The Dynasty is returning?::

::Not the one of old. We’re the new kids on the block. But we’re trying out best. I know Optimus won’t judge you by your past; if at all, he will thank you for what you did. Like all of them out there you took lives. Barricade feels no remorse of it either and he is our ally::

::I don’t want to be an ally. I want this to end!::

::And we won’t force you. Being a Neutral supersedes being a Decepticon, in my opinion::

Drift nodded carefully.

::And I know your intentions are true. I believe in Optimus, even without what I saw and know. He isn’t a freshman, Drift. He’s been around for a while::  
That got him a smile.

He smiled back and carefully disentangled himself from the mech’s mind, then moved back along the path he had come. He already felt the beckoning call of Bumblebee’s mind, his anchor, and he was glad to touch it.

 

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Bella found her father in what could only be called a small, private sitting area. There was a TV running, but the sound had been switched off. No one else was around.

“Hey,” he greeted her.

She steeled herself and asked, “When were you going to tell me that you’re bonded to a mechanoid life form?”

Part of her was pleased when he stared at her like a fish out of water. His mouth opened, then snapped shut again. He finally closed his eyes and sighed.

“Who told you?”

“Arcee said something. I asked her. She answered. She didn’t think you had kept that tidbit from me.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So you and Ironhide are what? Married? Engaged?”

“No!” he protested, looking aghast.

“Then what’s this bond? It sounds like some role playing game special to me! And I know RPGs. I play!”

Another sigh. “Sit, please.”

She sat down.

“I didn’t want to swamp you with even more stuff,” he said, expression serious and apologetic in one.

“Okay.”

“Ironhide and I share almost twenty years of service together. I was the commanding officer of the team, then this base, and he was a good friend back then already. He’s a warrior and he relates to warriors. When this happened…” he gestured at the runes, “he supported me as a friend. That he could also support me in more than physical training and acceptance of my new self came later.”

“You have sex?” she asked, straight-forward.

Will stared at her, apparently shocked by her open questions. “What?!”

“It’s a simple question. I wouldn’t know how and it seems ludicrous, but a lot has already. And you can change into this… protoform…”

“Gawd,” he groaned and hung his head.

“You didn’t tell me!” she said accusatorily.

“No, I didn’t,” he sighed.

“Why?”

“Because some of it is intensely personal and I didn’t want to freak you out more than you already are.”

Bella looked at him, face unreadable.

“And no, we don’t have sex. We share something. It’s personal. We… bond.”

“And that translates into…?”

“Not sex.”

Bella gave a frustrated groan. “Listen, I don’t care if you had a girlfriend or boyfriend! I think I’m too much of a new-generation girl to object to her dead father being bi or gay. I just can’t think of you and a mechanical life form from outer space!”

“We don’t have sex, Bella. We’re not sleeping together.” Will leaned forward. “It doesn’t work like that. They don’t have that concept. There are no male and female roles, no babies. They don’t… do it.”

“But you and Ironhide bond.”

“Think of it as an energy transfer.”

She frowned. “That sounds… painful. And weird.”

He smiled a little. “It’s not painful.”

Since Will didn’t elaborate, Bella added her own thoughts to it. It had to be good. Well, probably as good as sex. Gawd, her brain was going into the gutter. She couldn’t fathom that relationship, but she couldn’t understand what her father had become either.

“Bella?” Will asked carefully. “Are you okay with this?”

“It’s your life, Dad. I’ve just gotten back into it. I’m not someone to judge you.”

“It’s still something very big.”

“Twenty feet tall and toting more weaponry than a small country?”

Will smiled. He reached out hesitantly, then clasped her hand. “I want you back in my life. You’re my kid. And I know this is a lot. I just don’t want you…scared or freaked or… disgusted.”

Bella shook her head. “I’m more freaked by the giant alien robots and the runes than the other stuff. It’s not like you have sex, right?” She winked.

Will rolled his eyes.

“And like I said, I’m a child of the internet. And RPGs. You have no idea what’s going on in there!”

He smiled a little more. “I probably don’t want to. But that’s fantasy. This is reality.”

“I can handle it. Give me a while to get to know him. It’s not like he’s my step-mother or something.”

He grimaced.

“And he has to get used to me, too.”

Will chuckled. “Yeah, probably. We’re good?”

“Sure. You going to introduce me to him? I mean properly?”

Will shrugged. “No problem, but he’s currently in the weapons’ lab. Ironhide’s in love with guns.”

Bella grinned. “Okay. Then how about a lunch date for now?”

Will rose. “I’m all for it.”

They left for the mess hall.

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As always, time was relative for Sam when he was deep-scanning. What wasn’t relative was his reaction afterwards. He felt his head pulse with a coming headache. Even after so many years, the result of a deep-scan was always the same. Always.

Someone carefully touched him and he leaned into the familiar hand, taking deep breaths.

::I’m fine, Bee:: he told his partner. ::Just the usual stuff. No harm done by Drift::

Opening his eyes he found himself watched by the Decepticon’s red optics. Drift knew what he had seen and he knew what Sam would have to tell the Primes. It scared Drift and there was nothing Sam could do to alleviate that fear. He might be a Prime, but Optimus was seen as the senior leader. Drift saw him as the final judge.

Raoul was next to his friend, frowning with confusion. One hand rested on the thigh armor of the seated mech. Sam wondered if the mechanic was aware of that he was doing, how similar he and Drift were to Sam and Bumblebee from twenty years ago.

“I’m okay, Raoul,” the Ford said, smiling briefly. “Sam?”

“Okay,” the technopath answered. “Only a headache. Happens every time.”

“Sucks,” Raoul muttered.

Sam chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“So he’s in the clear now? You checked him out?”

Sam took a powerbar offered by Bumblebee and gave him a grateful smile before answering the question. “I know enough to understand his position and that he truly wants to be neutral.”

Drift gazed at him as if he was waiting for more. But Sam didn’t say more. This was between him and Drift. It was something only to be shared among the Primes.

“And the others will see it your way?” Raoul challenged.

“Optimus already does. He simply wanted a confirmation.”

“Which you can give him? We can leave and go back to LA?”

Sam nodded.

“Finally!” Raoul threw up his hands. “I told you from the start that he’s a good guy! But would you believe me? No! You’re worse than…”

Drift hummed, stopping the rant mid-sentence. Amusement shone in the red optics. “Raoul, it’s all right. I think I don’t need a lawyer any more.”

The young man snorted.

Sam smiled. “There’s going to be some more stuff to clear, but I think you can go home soon. If you want. You could also stay at the base, get an update on matters.” The last was addressed to Drift.

The mech shook his head. “No. Like I said, I’m neutral. I don’t want to get involved in your matters.”

“Okay. No problem.”

“But I think we should get some rest before driving back to LA.”

“It’s only a few hours,” Raoul muttered.

“One night won’t make a difference.”

The mechanic shrugged.

Sam left them, smiling at the very obvious friendship between them. Bumblebee radiated amusement.

“A boy and his car,” he teased.

The technopath laughed. “Right! The possibilities are endless.”

“Scary.”

“Oh yeah.”

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Optimus listened to Sam’s detailed report on Drift, on what he had seen of the past, motivations, hopes and dreams. To make it easier for the two Cybertronian Primes, Sam had simply dumped the information on them through a technopathic link. Will had opted out of this meeting, which was his right, to be with his daughter. He would catch up on matters the usual way and Sam knew Optimus had already sent the private message with the appropriate attachments. Sam didn’t see Will as someone to object to Drift’s neutral status.

“I knew Megatron had hired several Decepticons to off-line me,” Optimus said. “There were those from his most trusted circle as well as freelance operators. I think Ironhide has very detailed reports on that.”

“And Drift was one of those.”

“He paid for defying Megatron’s commands,” Sam said. “In a way he worked for you guys. He helped spoil attempts and he botched up his own missions until it became too obvious. He has too much respect for a Prime to kill one in cold blood. He would have no reservations should his life be threatened by you, but he won’t ever make the first move.”

“For someone who’s a Decepticon warrior and trained killer, he makes strange choices,” Rodimus remarked. “He’ll kill everyone but the Prime?”

“Yes.”

“If Neutrals had been given the freedom to remain neutral, he might never have joined Megatron. So he had to make a choice, and he made the wrong one,” Optimus said, voice thoughtful, soft, almost guilty. “We are guilty of the same deeds, Rodimus. We asked Neutrals to join the Autobots. Medics, for example. They never had a faction until the war. They wanted to remain between the lines, offer assistance to both sides, but they couldn’t stay that way. Autobots and Decepticons saw to that. We are to blame just like the Decepticons.”

Like so many things, it weighed on the senior Prime. Rodimus shot him an understanding look and Sam was quite aware of the hum between them, a connection shared by equals. Since he wasn’t mechanoid in origin, that connection eluded him and Will and Tony, but they each had their own way to connect. He didn’t intrude into that second-long moment.

“Even if I didn’t owe him my life several times over,” Optimus finally spoke up, “I accept his designation as Neutral. More might find this planet as the years pass on and more might be tired of fighting and choosing sides.”

Sam nodded. “He loves Earth. I could feel it. It wasn’t pretense. In a way he feels like Scavenger or Mixmaster when I first touched them. They wanted to stay here, wanted to remain among us, even if they could never openly show themselves. Drift respects Raoul. He taught him, he tutored him, he opened up to a degree. He wouldn’t sell out a friend to anyone and he’s fiercely protective.”

“It’s decided then,” Rodimus said. “He’ll go back to LA, a Neutral.”

The other two nodded their agreement. Sam met the ancient blue optics of Optimus and smiled.

::Thank you, Sam::

::My pleasure.::

And it had been and still was.

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Rodimus waited until he was alone with his co-leader, then felt along the link to Optimus. He sensed the guilt washing over the older Prime and he mentally shook his head. How had Optimus remained sane under all these emotions, this guilt, this weight?

Ancient blue optics met his.

No Prime was meant to lead alone.

“It’s not your fault, Op,” Rodimus said calmly. “You didn’t start the war.”

“No.”

“And the Neutrals would have been killed by Megatron.”

“He killed enough.”

“Ratchet and many others voluntarily joined the Autobots.”

Optimus gave a soft whirr, shaking his head. “None of them ever should have been forced to make a choice.”

Rodimus walked up to the taller mech and looked into the pained optics. “Not your fault. Not your guilt to carry.”

The connection hummed between them and the younger Prime felt something lift from the other’s spark.

“We have a chance now and then, to make up for the horrors of this war,” Rodimus went on. “Drift was a Decepticon and he wants to be a Neutral. Whatever his past, I think we should give him that chance.”

Optimus nodded. “How many more?” he asked, almost to himself.

“We’ll find out.” Rodimus smiled a little. “One by one.”

Optimus was silent for a while, then sent a silent ‘thank you’. Rodimus winked, then turned and walked away.

No, Primes weren’t meant to be alone. He would make damn sure that Optimus wouldn’t fall back into old patterns of trying to shoulder things alone. They were co-leaders. They had three trusted friends who would share this responsibility with them.

::Not alone:: he sent, startling the older Prime.

He got a silent wave of amusement and a confirmation.

Not alone.

 

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Bella had grabbed some food and ventured down to the medical area where Raoul and Drift were. She had no idea why Raoul didn’t explore the base. It was such a fascinating place. She had talked to so many mechs and the human personnel, she had spent time with her Uncle Bob, who was base commander, and she had gotten a small sight-seeing tour outside from Arcee.

Now she walked into the large room Ratchet only used for treatments and waved a bag at Raoul. “Food. Come eat it while it’s hot!”

He opened the bag and smiled widely at her. “You’re a life-saver!”

“You have legs. You can walk,” she remarked as she sat next to him. “The mess isn’t that far away and even you could figure out the markings on the wall.”

Raoul shot her an evil look. He spread out the fries, liberally dumped mayo and ketchup on them, and bit deeply into his burger.

“Raoul believes I need a bodyguard.” Drift gave his friend a smile. “He won’t understand that my neutral status allows him to leave me on my own for a while. Especially for a shower and some sleep.”

Bella wrinkled her nose. “You haven’t even showered yet? Ugh, Raoul!”

“So, how are you and your Dad catching up?” Raoul changed the topic.

“It’s been…interesting.”

He leaned forward, looking interested himself. “He’s your real dad?”

“Yes. Eric is my step-dad. Will Lennox was declared dead when I was around six. No one knew that he’s still alive. Big national secret and all.”

Drift hummed. “With what happened to him, I believe it would be for the best. He absorbed a part of the Allspark and his skin reflects that. He would always stand out. I don’t want to speculate about what powers he might have gained.”

“Well, he has some.” Bella shrugged. “I guess there’s more, but he won’t tell for now.”

“National secret,” Raoul nodded, eating some chips.

“He hasn’t aged at all. He’s like frozen,” Bella went on. “It’s so weird! He looks like the man on the family pictures from fifteen years ago, but he’s not the same guy.”

She suddenly looked at Drift, a frown appearing on her forehead.

“Do you think humans are attractive?” she asked.

Drift blinked slowly. “Come again?”

“Would you be able to… bond to one of us?”

Raoul stared at her, open-mouthed, burger in hand. “What?! Bella, what kind of question is that?!”

“While I think you are a fascinating species, we Cybertronians don’t connect to each other or another species like you would.”

Bella chewed on her lower lip. “But if a human could bond…?”

“But you can’t, Bella,” Drift insisted.

“Just imagine we could,” she repeated.

Raoul looked back and forth between them. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No. It’s a valid question,” Bella said.

Drift leaned forward. “The way you ask, you are aware what a bond means?”

She nodded.

“Then you also know that it involves two sparks. Humans have no sparks.”

Bella played with the paper bag she had brought the food in.

“What troubles you?” Drift wanted to know.

“Nothing. No trouble, really. I’m just trying to come to terms with a few things.”

Drift didn’t push any further, but Raoul looked like he was bursting with questions. The arrival of a man in a uniform didn’t let him. He was maybe in his late thirties, blond, with close-cropped hair. He smiled at the three friends.

“Mr. Vega, Ms Sheppard, Drift. My name is Major Trent DeMarco, second in command of Nevada base.”

Bella got up and politely shook the man’s hand. “Uncle Bob told me about you. And my dad.”

“So I heard. I’m here about a few bureaucratic matters. Since this is a top secret operation you stumbled into, signing non-disclosures are mandatory.” He smiled briefly. “Even if they come after the fact.”

Bella nodded. Not like anyone would actually believe her.

“You think I’d blab about this after knowing about Drifter for ten years?” Raoul asked.

“Like I said: bureaucracy,” DeMarco only replied. “Second, Ms Sheppard and Mr. Vega have been issued special passes.” He held up two credit card-sized pieces of hard plastic. “They work as emergency caller IDs, identify you as a VIP to military installations, and when swiped through a phone, connect you with Blaster.”

“Who?”

“He’s the communications specialist maintaining orbit around Earth.”

Raoul took the card and turned it over between his fingers. “What? No transporter? Holographic projection? Battle armor hidden inside?”

DeMarco chuckled. “We’re working on that. Now, Ms Sheppard, Will told me you’re thinking about moving back to LA or Las Vegas. When you have reached your decision, let me know. We’ll take care of that.”

“Autobots do U-Haul?” Raoul asked sarcastically.

“It helps to have an independent source of income,” the Major dead-panned.

Bella chuckled. “Okay, I’ll let you know.”

“Good. Now, for the non-disclosures…”

Thirty minutes later they were alone after having signed their names a hundred times or more. At least it had felt that way. Drift was giving Raoul pointed looks and only when Bella promised to stay with the Neutral did Raoul agree to a shower.

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Ratchet didn’t look amused to see them in his medical area when he walked in just after Raoul had left.

“Why are you still here again?” he asked, though not as unkindly as he could have.

“We’re waiting for Raoul. He went to shower.”

“Finally!” the medical officer muttered. “I was thinking he followed a religion I hadn’t heard of yet.”

Bella smiled and even Drift seemed amused.

“You can move freely throughout the base,” Ratchet pointed out. “Without a bodyguard.”

“It wouldn’t be helpful for his health if I leave now before he returns,” Drift replied. “I also would like to know he is asleep in his bed before I venture out alone.”

“He is protective,” Ratchet agreed. “All right, you can wait here, but I want you gone the moment he comes back. This isn’t a recreational area and you are not my patient.”

Bella had watched the exchange with barely hidden amusement. “He’s… got interesting bedside manners,” she remarked when the medic was gone.

Drift shrugged. “But he has a point.”

“We could leave a note for Raoul and leave…”

“It would give him a heart attack.”

“He’s young. He’ll survive,” she said with a straight face.

Drift gave a whirr of laughter. It drew a brief glance from Ratchet, but the medic didn’t stop them from leaving after they had made up a note for Drift’s driver.

Shaking his head, Ratchet continued to check his instruments.

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Lennox was with Ironhide and anyone who knew about them would realize that this was a private moment. Which was the reason why they were in private quarters, away from prying eyes, and the door was locked. To an outsider with no knowledge, it looked like Will was simply sleeping.

He was sleeping, but he was inside the black Topkick, on a reconfigured seat that now looked like a queen-sized bed, the windows were blackened, and he was watched over by a hardlight holoform. Ironhide was trailing his holoform fingers over his partner’s naked back, tracing the permanent matrix tattoo, following the intricate whorls and swirls. They rippled under his touch and his holoform was at the receiving end of pleasurable little shocks.

Lennox finally opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes holding a blue shimmer that was in contrast to the hard pinprick light that usually came forth when his temper got through. Ironhide leaned over him, resting a hand on the other side of his partner’s body, gazing into the familiar eyes.

“Slept well?”

Will turned fully on his back and smiled. “As always.”

Ironhide playfully followed a string of writing that crawled over Lennox’s chest. The hybrid let his eyes droop a little, clearly enjoying it. Humans were tactile creatures, Ironhide knew, but his bonded reacted more when it involved the Allspark code. Not that it didn’t affect the mech less. There was no way he didn’t enjoy it.

“Ratchet reported that your daughter and Drift left the medical area,” Ironhide murmured, playfully following the runes that seemed to play with him.

“Huh. Raoul?” Will asked, voice very relaxed.

“Ratchet hopes he will sleep now. Jazz will keep an eye on the Neutral.”

“Already accepted that he is one, Hide?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Even you can learn?” Will teased.

Ironhide rumbled and Lennox laughed. He caught the wandering hand, the runes coalescing where their fingers entwined. It gave Ironhide almost a headrush.

Will pulled him closer and he slid to lie more fully on the hybrid’s body, more runes touching him. Lennox rolled them around and Ironhide splayed his fingers over his partner’s back, feeling the matrix code like he was reading Braille. He would never tire of this. It was the most amazing thing he had ever experience and probably ever would. This human was the most amazing thing in the universe.

“I can learn,” he whispered.

Will smiled. “Yeah. I noticed.”

The Prime glyph seemed to pulse and the headrush turned into a sudden dislocation of all thought as energy coursed through him.

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Raoul did fall asleep. He had dried himself off after the shower and had just sat down for a little rest… and woke ten hours later, naked, lying curled up on his bed.

Damn!

He dressed in a hurry and nearly bowled over a soldier outside his quarters.

“Mr. Vega,” the man – Summerland, as his name tag said – greeted him. “Good evening.”

“Evenin’,” Raoul muttered, turning to go.

“Ms Sheppard asked me to inform you of her and Drift’s whereabouts,” the solider said, unimpressed.

“Bella?”

The man nodded, not moving a muscle.

“Where is she? Where’s Drift?”

“Both Ms Sheppard and Drift are in the library.” The soldier made an inviting gesture. “I’ll accompany you to them. Ms. Sheppard asked me to tell you that she has dinner ready when you’re awake.”

Raoul grumbled a little, but he followed Summerland.

The library turned out to be mech-sized and filled with differently sized screens, as well as a few holo-projectors. Drift was standing next to a large holo-projection of a planet that, Raoul suspected, was Cybertron. Bella was at his side, clearly fascinated.

“Raoul!” she greeted him, smiling. “Finally awake?”

He shot her a dark look, then walked up to the projection. 3-D, massively detailed, and amazingly life-like.

“Cybertron?” he asked softly.

“Yes. My home,” Drift confirmed.

Bella stuck a breakfast burrito under his nose, followed by a mug of steaming hot coffee. “You’ll need it,” she only commented. “This is so amazing!”

Raoul bit into the burrito and washed it down with coffee. Summerland had disappeared, but there was probably a guard outside once more. Oh well…

Right now this was a lot more fascinating.

 

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Raoul felt like he was still under constant surveillance. Running into Barricade, who suddenly leaned against the door of the medical area, had been even more tension-filled. He understood that Barricade was also a Decepticon, though called ‘former’, but he had never actually deserted. He would still be following that Megatron character if he hadn’t been betrayed by the Decepticon leader. Drift wouldn’t say more, but apparently there had been a lot of talking between two mechs going on that a human wasn’t privy to.

He had never been more glad to get home to LA than he was now. Rodimus Prime and Tony Stark had accompanied them and Stark had actually handed over a business card that had had Raoul gape.

“Stark Industries? Are you friggin’ kidding?”

Stark smiled. “No.”

“You’re that Stark.”

“The one and only. Seeing what you did here, I think I might call you for a few jobs, kid.”

Goldmine, Raoul had thought. Literal goldmine.

Alone in his dark shop, he turned to look at the car that was his best friend. It felt like a life time had gone by since they had last been here, preparing for the show. Now… now the news were still on about the fire at the car exhibit, how someone who wasn’t revealed had apparently stowed highly flammable items in the exhibit area, how police was already on the case…

Raoul knew that everything was a set-up. Everything reported was a lie. The Clean Up Team the Autobots and their human allies used were taking care of matters as they always did. They covered it all up and in the end damages would be paid and expenses met, but the truth would be far, far from what was going to end up in a report.

“You okay?” he wanted to know.

“I’m fine, Raoul.”

“And that tracking thingy?”

“I agreed to it. I want this to be over. I’m a Neutral, but my past makes it hard to accept. I told you before, I could kill them easily. I just know how. I look at a mech and know. It makes me dangerous.”

Raoul slumped into his old, battered armchair. “I know.”

“I never expected as much as I got,” Drift went on. “The Primes trust me enough to leave me with you.”

Raoul stared at the ceiling. Twenty-four hours ago that ceiling had been metal and had belonged to an underground base built by an alliance of humans and aliens. A week ago he had thought he was the only one to ever know about Drift. He would never have gotten Bella involved if he had known where this might go. Of course, now Bella knew her father was still alive and she was hell-bent on staying in his life.

“I’ll make the most of it.”

“Okay. And since you and Rodimus Prime trashed the LA exhibit, no more contracts from there.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Back to earning money right from tomorrow on. I’ll call the ones from the show who expressed an interest in my work and maybe give Stark a holler… I mean, if he was serious…”

“I suppose he was. He is a collector of sports cars.”

“How would you know?”

“Internet.”

“Ah.” Raoul grinned.

His stomach rumbled and he grimaced. Drift popped open a door.

“Get in. You have nothing in your fridge aside from possible new life forms,” the mech teased.

“No complaints about ketchup stains and fatty fries?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Cool.”

They were heading for the next drive-in five minutes later.

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Up in the sky, Blaster tracked the movement of the neutral Cybertronian, relaying the data back to Nevada.

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Raoul’s departure had left Bella alone at the base. Well, alone aside from the soldiers and some civilians populating the military installation in the Nevada desert. She was happy for Raoul and Drift, glad that everything had worked out. Now she only had to work out her own family matters.

Bella had taken to studying Ironhide. She would find a place she wasn’t in the way and she would look at the mechanoid who was her father’s bonded partner.

Physically he looked rather… squad… as tall as he was broad. That was armor; simply a lot of armor. She had been told about protoforms and that they weren’t anything like the mech that had adapted to the current environment through camouflage. So underneath all that bulk was a normal-sized protoform. Trying to imagine him as a human had failed. Bella had a lot of imagination, but she couldn’t apply any of the features from the mech to a human model.

What she got from daily interaction and remarks dropped by soldiers when she asked about the Autobots as individuals – and Bella knew not to ask only about Ironhide – was… mostly the same. Ironhide was the weapons specialist. He was tough. He was hard. Hard-headed mostly. He didn’t roll over and died; he would fight to the end and he would take as many opponents with him as he could.

She had tried to find out more about the bond and what it meant, but since she didn’t want to ask too many questions about something this private of her father, she was out of options.

Someone sat next to her. She had chosen what looked like a work bench on the far side of the hangar, out of the way of the daily operations, and was simply watching.

“Hey, little lady,” Jazz said jovially.

“I’m not a kid,” she told him.

“Of course not. No offense, Ms Annabelle Sheppard.”

“Call me Bella. You’re Jazz, right?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to keep me company.”

“No, but I like it.” He flashed her a smile. “And I might be the one who can help you.”

Bella frowned. “Help me with what?”

“You want to know about bonds, about your father and Ironhide.”

Bella felt her cheeks flush. “Will told me some about that.”

“But you’re still curious.”

She nodded.

“Well, ask.”

She gave him another frown. “Ask? Who?”

Jazz tilted his head. “Obviously me.”

“But…” She stopped, then blurted, “You’re bonded to a human, too?”

“No. I’ve a spark-bond, but not to a human. My partner is Cybertronian and we’ve had this bond for millennia.”

“And no sex.”

He laughed. “No sex,” he confirmed.

“Then what is this? What is it that my father shares with one of you guys? What’s so attractive?”

Because she didn’t understand. She looked at Ironhide and saw a huge, heavily armored mechanoid. All in black, looking like a battering ram on legs. He was toting big cannons, was very trigger-happy, and Arcee had confirmed that he was one of the oldest mechs around. He also loved his weapons. As Arcee had put it, he outclassed most countries on Earth when it came to long and short range weaponry. If you wanted a weapons system, you went to Ironhide.

“You have a saying that it isn’t the outside that is important, Bella. The inside counts. Underneath our armors there is a central structure, the protoform. While we don’t all look alike as protoforms, it still is the base of every Cybertronian. A transscan makes us into what you see here. And within the protoform is a spark. It’s our mind and soul, if you will.”

She nodded. Will had given her the rough basics about some things.

“Will was changed because of the Allspark and he started to develop abilities. Ironhide was there for him because they were friends and trusted each other. Ironhide trained your father and throughout this, the friendship deepened. A spark-bond happens faster. The other mech just feels it. With Will being human, without a spark, they took the long way.”

“Dad fell in love?”

“No. You can’t apply human emotions to this, Bella,” Jazz told her calmly. “What we feel is hard to translate into love. We feel deeply and Ironhide would give his life for Will. He cares about his happiness and he has found ways to be closer to a human partner than some of us would have gone.”

“But no sex.”

He smirked. “No. You’re not going to see much open displays either. This is intensely personal and it’s about having someone there, someone who is very much equal to you in many ways. A bond is formed between those that complete each other.”

“But if you guys form bonds with your own kind, what happens if Ironhide finds his match?”

Jazz nodded that this was a good question. “Spark bonds are very rare, Bella. I’ve lived a long time and never seen one beside my own. Ironhide is older than me and he hasn’t connected to anyone as he did to Will. And while I can’t say for sure that it’s the case, I doubt he would be able to.”

“But my father is human… how can he connect like this?”

“He is a hybrid,” the mech reminded her. “His physical structure was altered. I know he explained a few things and you will learn more about him, Bella. Being what and who he is now made it possible for them to develop their bond.”

Bella gazed thoughtfully at the going-ons around her. “I just can’t see it, Jazz,” she finally said. “I mean, we humans are attracted to people by looks and by personality. I know I liked some guys, even if they didn’t like me back the same way. But, and no offense, I wouldn’t find you attractive that way. And Ironhide’s…”

“No physically a match to human mating instinct,” Jazz finished.

She shot him a dark look. “You sound like my biology teacher.”

He grinned. “But this is what it’s all about. What you forget is that Will isn’t looking for a mate to keep a species alive. This isn’t about off-spring.”

“Gawd, don’t give me ideas!” she complained.

He didn’t look at all repentant. “This is about finding a kindred spirit, if you want to put it like that. Ironhide and Will… they’re good together.”

No sex, no sex, no sex, Bella chanted in her head.

“I guess I have to get to know Ironhide a lot better.”

“Good luck on that. He’s tight-lipped and private. He’s seen a lot, lost many friends, and aside from Optimus I think only Will is privy to the depths of him.” Jazz leaned closer. “Even if some of us think he has no depth at all. He’s an ornery old bucket of bolts.”

She burst out laughing. Jazz held a finger to his lips. Bella snickered.

“All that uptight, rough around the edges personality is still met and matched by Will’s. They’re really good, Bella. Give it a try. Watch them.”

“I am giving this a try. Even if my head explodes.” She chewed on her lower lip. “If this isn’t too private a question… who is your bonded?”

Blue optics brightened. “Barricade.”

Bella knew she was gaping. “He’s… the guy Ironhide gripes about, right? The Decepticon allied to you?”

Jazz nodded.

Talk about strange matches!

“Like I said: bonds complete the other.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Give this a chance, Bella.”

She got up, still able to look into the bright blue optics. Jazz was smaller than the others, but he was a lot bigger than a human being.

“I never said I wouldn’t. Ironhide is part of Will’s life.”

Jazz nodded and got up, too. He transformed and opened a door. “Care for a ride?”

“Where to?”

“Do you need a destination to travel?”

She grinned. “I don’t think so. Just get me home for dinner. I’ve a date.”

“I promise.”

She slipped into the sleek silver car and they left the base.

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“Man, I finally caught a hold of you!”

Raoul held the cell away from his ear as Doug’s voice blared out of it. “Doug, I’m not deaf!”

“Where the friggin’ heck were you?”

“Something personal came up.”

“We thought you’d gone up in smoke, man!”

Raoul laughed. “The car did,” he lied. “And the cops talked to me, too. I had a friend call me right after and had to leave in a hurry. She’s fine now.”

Doug started to moan about the loss of his baby, the seriously tweaked Cobra he had had on display, and that no insurance money in the world could bring her back. Raoul listened patiently, grunting now and then, and finally hung up when Doug had finished. He had promised to call for a get-together, their usual weekend filled with cars, booze and unhealthy amounts of food.

Turning to Drift, he had to smile. The Neutral had kept the disguise he had chosen when they had fled, the red Ford GT. It was Raoul’s new car since the Shelby had gone up in flames according to the faked reports.

“Up for a drive?”

“Always,” was the amused reply and the door clicked open.

Raoul slipped inside and the Ford left the garage.

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Bella stayed for the whole summer break at the Nevada base and by the end of it, she was decided upon her change to UNLV. She might not like Las Vegas as such, but it was the closest to her father and UNLV offered her enough to continue studying. She had already called and mailed with a friend who would take over her lease for the apartment. The friend had been looking for a place for a while now and was happy to have hers. One more trip to Lincoln to pack and she would be in Las Vegas for good.

As Major DeMarco had promised, moving was taken care of by the military. They would even have taken over her lease in a false name if she hadn’t found anyone, and it made her wonder just how important Will Lennox really was. She was still not at the end of the seemingly nerverending story of what her father was, had been up and still did.

A small apartment had been found for her, away from the Strip, and the move would be accomplished within a day. Knowing Autobots and the military had its advantages.

Will promised to call or email her whenever he could.

Bella promised never to lose a word about this to anyone.

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Sitting in her new apartment, alone for the first time in weeks, she looked at the normalcy around her. No more alien base, no more soldiers, just a student’s home and the work she still had to do. There were a few more personal items to unpack.

She went over to the small box next to her bed. Inside was the flag from her father’s funeral and the photo album she had taken with her without her mother’s knowledge. Of course she had called her mother to let her know about the move. While her mother hadn’t been happy about the change of colleges again, she also knew she couldn’t change Bella’s mind. If there was one thing Bella was, it was independent and stubborn.

Now she also knew where that came from.

The lie about her new move had been that the master’s she was attempting was sponsored and she belonged to the elite few in that sponsorship. It was the truth, to a degree. AIDDE was her sponsor.

When she was done she wanted to get a job with the military, with the Nevada base or Yuma or Nellis. She was going to get her master and she wanted to work for AIDEE, with her father, at the base, or close to it. She had been given a second chance and she wanted to use it. Well, for now she had to continue learning and get a degree.

Her cell rang and she looked at the display, rolling her eyes.

“Hi, Mom,” she greeted the caller. “Yes, I’m fine… All boxes unpacked… Yeah, great… No, tomorrow… Yes, I’ll call. I’ll write emails… Oh please, Mom!...”

When she hung up Annabelle sighed. Mothers! Her mom always worried. Always! She was twenty-one, she was in college, she was doing great! And Las Vegas wasn’t too bad a place to get her masters in the future.

Grabbing her bag, laptop and cell, she left the apartment building. Time to explore her new home for the next few years!

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At Nevada base Will sat on Ironhide’s hood, looking at old photographs. His daughter. As a baby. As a toddler. In kindergarten. Pre-school. Then a few snap shots Epps had scored for him. And finally a whole collection of Annabelle throughout her life. A life Will hadn’t been able to share. She had left him with a USB full of memories and Lennox was flipping through them with a little sad smile.

“She is back in your life,” Ironhide rumbled softly.

“Yeah. And I’m happy, Hide. Happier than I should be. She’s now involved with the military, with you guys, and it’s a danger.”

“Life is always a danger.”

He laughed darkly. “Sure. Add aliens and a war to the mix, just another day, right?”

The holoform materialized and Ironhide took the stick out of his hands, the holographic projection flicking off.

“She is a strong woman, Will. She is your daughter. She made up her mind.” He smiled slightly. “And may I remind you that she ran into a Decepticon before she even knew about you or us.”

Will leaned back against the windshield and groaned. “Yeah. Don’t remind me. It could have been something much, much worse. Someone who was more inclined to kill a human than to be friends.”

“Yes.”

“So this was luck. Luck and fate?”

“Probably.”

Ironhide gently traced over the glyphs residing permanently on Will’s wrist. His name. Part of their connection.

“We’re looking after her,” the mech said. “She has supervision.”

“If she finds out, I’m toast,” Will joked. Still, having a watcher on Bella alleviated his fears.

Ironhide smiled. “Got a trial run scheduled,” he said, changing the topic.

Lennox chuckled. “Gonna blow something up?”

“If all goes well.”

“And you want company?”

“It might help distract you.”

The hybrid looked at the fingers playfully trailing runes. “Some things are more distracting than others.”

Ironhide smirked, then the holoform dissolved.

“Okay, that was unfair,” his partner grumbled, but he slid off the hood and got into the cab.

Ironhide’s engine rumbled to life. They pulled away from their secluded spot and headed for the base.

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In Las Vegas a symbiote kept careful watch over the human woman assigned to him.


End file.
